


the twink in black tights (REDUX)

by burnthesocks



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Yoga, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Christmas Shopping, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Lots of reassurance, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, Poor Connor, Russian Roulette, Sharing a Bed, The Gangs All Here, author has never attended a yoga class in their life, connor does not know how to flirt but he's trying his best, hank gets a little jealous, soft sweet yoga boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 29,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnthesocks/pseuds/burnthesocks
Summary: Hank is just a police lieutenant checking out the new coffee shop that opened down the street, and then he meets Connor, an employee and yoga instructor. His life takes a turn, and he is not sure if it is for the best or for the worst.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 27
Kudos: 136





	1. Prologue

Never in Hank’s entire life did he think he’d be cutting out junk food and taking a fucking yoga class, and if you told him otherwise, he’d swear you were crazy.

However, when Jerry’s Cafe opened a block away from where he lived, he figured it’d be worth a try. The coffee at the Detroit Police Department was adequate at best.

Not only was the coffee fit for a god that Hank probably didn’t believe in, but the staff was, too.

Specifically, one dorky, freckled brunette barista that gave Hank a new perspective on brown eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> naturally, this is a prologue, and chapters are going to be longer than this- and i'll update fairly quickly !


	2. Jerrys' Cafe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank learns why the coffee shop he now frequents is called Jerry's Cafe. Oh, and dog talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told you i'd update fast lol

Every day, Hank would go for a coffee at Jerrys' Cafe, and every day, Connor would serve him his coffee and try to converse with him as much as possible. The brunette male had always been very sweet, too. Hank was already warming up to him, despite himself. He usually did not trust easily, but Connor was so gentle. How could he not speak to him? Eventually, Connor knew his full name and where he lived. 

Hank was not sure how to feel about it, instinctively wanting to build walls around himself and trust no one, but there was something different about Connor that he couldn’t identify. _Quite the fucking detective,_ he remarked internally.

About a week after he made Jerry’s Cafe a part of his daily routine, he found out how it’d earned its name, meeting the red-headed male at one point while speaking with Connor.

Hank never paid the other waiters and waitresses any mind, since he was constantly so focused on Connor. But one day, he noticed something.

He saw two of... the same person? 

He was extremely confused and tapped Connor's shoulder, who was talking about his passion for dogs. Connor stopped talking and looked at him with a mirroring confused expression. Hank pointed at the two red-headed males, who looked completely identical. Connor laughed quietly. Hank wished to never forget that sound.

"That's Jerry," Connor informed him with a small smile. As if that helped.

"Which one?" Hank asked, looking between the two, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"Both." Connor simply stated. Hank looked from him to Jerry and Jerry.

"They're... twins?" He said slowly. "Both named Jerry?"

"Triplets, actually," Connor said cheerily, pointing to the third red-head Hank hadn't noticed, that was at a register behind the counter. "Jerry is filling in for Simon. He got the flu." Connor continued, sounding a bit sad about whoever Simon was getting the flu. Hank felt a twinge of something deep within him. Jealousy, it felt like, but Hank pretended not to notice it.

"Oh," Hank said. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, and he worried the idea that Connor was in a relationship before internally berating himself. Connor had to be 25 at most, and Hank felt like a dirty old man as he shooed away the fantasies that had started to build in his head.

"Do you have a dog?" Connor asked eagerly, breaking the awkward silence (silent, apart from Hank's awkward sips of his coffee) that had hung heavy in the air for a minute or so. Hank was happy about the subject change.

"Yeah, actually. A saint bernard." Hank pulled out his phone and opened his camera roll, scrolling through to find a picture of the big lump.

He found a particular picture that he felt captured the dog's personality. He tapped on it and showed his phone to Connor.

"Oh my god..." Connor whispered, eyes wide and mouth agape slightly. Hank had to tear his gaze from his pretty lips. _That's dangerous territory, Anderson,_ he scolded himself. 

"What? He ain' nothing special, just a big lump of fluff." Hank laughed. The picture was a picture of Sumo sleeping by the fireplace. Despite Hank's negative talk of the dog, he really loved the big bastard.

"B-big... and fluffy..." Connor was whispering, his eyes practically sparkling as he gazed at the dog in awe. Hank exhaled a laugh at Connor’s reaction.

"Yep, that's about all he is. His name is Sumo." Hank told him, smiling at Connor's behavior. He took another sip of his coffee.

"Does he cuddle?" Connor asked, still staring at the dog lovingly.

"Pfft. Oh, yeah. It's all he does. He thinks he's a puppy." Hank answered. Connor fucking swooned, smiling very wide. He looked like he was about to start crying.

"Oh..." That was all Connor said at first, staring at the dog for a whole minute. "Yeah. I'm in love with your dog." He said, closing his eyes and holding his finger up matter-of-factly. Hank chuckled. Somewhere internally, he wished Connor was in love with him. He shoved that thought so far down and tried to never think it again. "I would really love to meet him sometime." Connor finished, looking back up at Hank with that stupid smile that Hank loved. Hank's mind immediately jumped to Connor wants to come to my house? He had to ignore that thought as well.

"Do you have a dog?" He asked Connor.

"Oh, no. I wish I did, but I'm probably too busy to take them on walks. Plus, I kind of want-" Connor cut himself off, blushing. Hank didn't question it but in his mind, he could not stop wondering what the hell Connor wanted.

"Oh. Well, that's too bad." Hank lamented, mainly hoping to break the awkward silence that had come back with a vengeance. He took a final swig of his coffee, finishing it and putting the mug down.

It was at this time that Hank also noticed he was 8 minutes late.

"Oh, shit. I'm like 10 minutes late, I gotta go. I'll see ya, Con." Hank grabbed his phone and waved at the younger man, who waved goodbye back with a smile.

"Bye, Hank!" He called after him.

Hank was beginning to become a morning person, and it almost scared him. Almost.


	3. 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank finds out more things about Connor, Connor finds out more things about Hank. Just a usual day, other than the resurfacing of unpleasant memories that Hank almost wishes he could bury with his son.

As the days passed, Hank found himself getting more and more upset when Connor was flirted with by the patrons. He never said anything, just gave them a fucking death glare and a half, although he couldn’t stop the twinge of disgust with himself. He had no place to feel jealous. At best, Connor considered him a friend.

About another week had passed since their conversation about dogs, and age came into the conversation. Hank immediately wanted to swerve the fuck away from that topic, but Connor still told Hank his age anyway.

"Oh, and I'm 32." Connor had said, smiling sheepishly. Hank almost choked on his coffee.

"32?!" He sputtered. He thought Connor was a lot younger, like in his mid-20s or something. Not fucking 32.

"Correct" Connor chimed, still smiling with a slight blush on his face. Hank was fucking 53 years old. At least that made him feel slightly better about...

"I'm, uh, 53." He admitted, unable to hold back a grimace. He felt like he looked older. Years of a bad diet and alcoholism wore him down from what he used to be. For some fucking reason, Hank had no idea why, but Connor flushed a deeper shade of red when Hank said this. He broke the silence. "Yeah. I look older, don't I?"

"N-no, that's not it..." Connor squeaked, face gradually fading back to its natural color. Hank didn't ask what it was, not sure if he quite wanted to know the answer.

"I mean, that's just fuckin' alcohol pretty much. I didn't look too bad 10, 20 years ago." Hank admitted. For a second, he worried that Connor would judge him for his alcoholism. But Connor's expression softened, and Hank felt a slight wave of relief.

"Hank, you don't look bad now," Connor reassured, his hand twitching. He moved his hand up for a second, and then looked away and almost slammed it into the table as though he was controlling an impulse. Hank raised his eyebrows at this and eventually sighed. He probably shouldn't voice how much he disliked himself. He didn't want Connor to dislike him too.

"Like a week ago we talked about dogs. If you could have a dog, what breed would you get?" Hank asked, desperate for a subject change.

"Border collie," Connor said it without hesitance, as though he was preparing for this question. Hank smiled fondly at the brunette. Of course. Connor absolutely would prepare for a question like that.

"I'll remember that," Hank said, still smiling. Connor looked slightly confused. Hank was determined that one day, he would get Connor a small border collie. Then he recalled what the male had said about why he didn't already have a dog. Hank thought about it for a bit. "Any reason?" He thought to ask so the awkward silence didn't strike.

"My father used to have one. Her name was Belle, she was beautiful. Not only that, but she was always there for me. She died about 10 years back, but I still miss her." Connor ended his sentence sounding quite wistful, despite starting it sounding cheerful as usual. Hank felt bad for asking now.

"Fuck, that's rough." Hank tried to sympathize.

He had a dead son. It felt like a fresh, gaping wound when he remembered desperately slamming the brakes on the icy road. His car flipping over, a cut-off high pitched shriek. Screaming that Cole couldn't be dead, he couldn't be, he couldn't be. Falling into a dark state of grief and his wife leaving him after he took his pain out on her, yelling and crying almost every day and trying to numb himself with alcohol and his gun.

But there was no normal way to add that into the conversation.

So he stayed quiet until he finished his coffee, trying to force back the memories that presented themself at the forefront of his brain. He looked up at Connor and found it easier to drive those memories away when he counted the freckles on his face. Connor looked at him questioningly. 

"Sorry for bringing that up. I need to get to work. Bye, Connor." He smiled and messed up the male's carefully combed hair. He could swear that Connor had leaned into his touch and he watched the younger man wave as he walked out of the coffee shop.


	4. Lieutenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor learns that Hank is a police lieutenant, Hank learns that Connor teaches a yoga class. Connor wants Hank in the class, and Hank can't help but give in to his puppy eyes.

About another week of Hank unknowingly falling in love with Connor later, the topic of jobs came up.

"Oh, uh, it's nothing special but I'm a Lieutenant at the DPD." Hank had said to Connor, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t want to appear like some cocky asshole, although it definitely wasn’t easy to earn his place at his job.

"Oh! Would you prefer me to call you by your rank, Lieutenant?" Connor had asked in return. Hank almost choked on his coffee once again. There was nothing suggestive about the question at all, but the way 'Lieutenant' rolled off of Connor's tongue sounded awfully sultry. Hank had to shove away quite a few dangerous thoughts before speaking.

"Wh- Absolutely not." Hank had stammered, his face burning. Connor had fucking giggled. A heavenly sound, really. Then he spoke.

"Well, apart from me working here, I'm also an instructor for a small yoga class." He had said, and then his features brightened. Oh, no. "You should join the class!" He chimed, a hopeful glint in his beautiful, chocolate-colored eyes. "I could even give you private lessons." He added as an afterthought, winking on the last couple of words in his sentence. Yeah, Hank was a fucking goner.

When Connor noticed Hank's obvious hesitance, he spoke again. "If I let you join and give you lessons for free, then will you join?" He pleaded, giving Hank the sweetest fucking puppy eyes he'd ever seen. Well, _fuck_ , how was he supposed to say no to that?!

"Alright, fine. I'll probably be behind, I'm not uh, in the best shape." At this point, Hank was just desperate to change Connor's mind. Yoga was... not his thing.

"Private lessons," Connor reminded him, grinning. Hank rolled his eyes fondly. At this point, he was postponing what was inevitable. He knew he was sold as soon as Connor gave him those pleading eyes, not caring whether he received free lessons or not.

"Alright, alright. I just need to know where. And when." He gave in, taking another swig of his coffee and suppressing a smile. Connor opened his mouth to speak but was cut off from a voice from the kitchen.

"Connor!" Hank heard one of the Jerrys’ call out from behind the two.

"Dang it!" Connor muttered. Hank watched as the mole-speckled male took out a notepad and a pen. He clicked the pen and quickly scrawled something on the paper. Hank watched his brow furrow as he wrote and he took the few seconds to admire Connor’s features.

Connor had freckles dusting his face, from his forehead to his chin. Freckles also covered his nose, and Hank ignored the impulse to kiss the tip of his nose. Hank’s gaze lowered and he watched as respectfully as he could manage when Connor took his lip between his teeth. Connor tore out the paper and gave it to Hank, who blinked a couple of times before remembering what was going on. Connor gave an apologetic smile and waved. Hank waved bye in return, watching Connor run to the kitchen, keeping his eyes from traveling south for the sake of any and everything, before looking at the paper.

'313-800-0051 ♡', it read. Holy shit, Hank just got Connor's number without even needing to ask. For how fast it was written, the hand-writing was surprisingly neat. He put the paper in his pocket and finished his coffee and walked out to his car with a smile on his face that he couldn’t force down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> petition to let connor swear  
> (see: "dang it" connor muttered...)


	5. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank, after getting home from work, calls Connor. Connor tells Hank when to show up, and Hank realizes he has no idea what he's gotten himself into.

Work was a drag that day, every hour felt like ten as he put up with desk duty. That was his fault for punching Reed, but he still wasn't happy about it. Hank got out the minute he could, grabbing a salad- yes, a goddamn salad- from the Chicken Feed before making his way home.

After arriving home, and after a great deal of stalling- he even shaved a bit- Hank called Connor. He felt a strange pit in his stomach and suddenly he wished he'd planned what he was going to say. It rang for a few moments before somebody, presumably (hopefully) Connor picked up.

"Hello?" Hank immediately recognized the sweet voice of Connor.

"Uh, hi." He said, and then realizing Connor probably had no idea who was calling-

"Hank!" The tone of Connor's voice had brightened and Hank could hear the excitement in his voice. He smiled.

"Yep." He simply said, hoping Connor couldn't tell he was smiling. Several seconds passed as Hank desperately wracked his brain to remember why he'd called in the first place, feeling relief when he finally does. Seconds feel like minutes before he spoke again. "I'm calling about, uh, our cut off conversation this mornin'." He elaborated, making a gesture with his hand as if Connor could see him.

"Oh, yeah!" Connor had giggled a little again, and Hank felt- _physically_ felt his heart clench. That can't be good. He allowed himself to think it was heartburn from the food he had earlier. It was a safe assumption, knowing the Chicken Feed wasn't exactly reputable for being healthy.

"Yeah, I'll text you the address right now, as well as my own for the uh..." He trailed off. "Private lessons." He finished and Hank hoped he was imagining the shift of his tone. He could feel his face burning up as thoughts of what "private lessons" could entail invaded his brain unwarranted.

Hank received two addresses. He found it safe to assume the one with the heart next to it was Connor's place and he smiled slightly at that.

"And, uh, when?" Hank asked. He didn't know why, but he felt stupid.

"I just thought of a better idea: private lessons in the actual building. Before and after classes, because the room is always reserved for me..." Connor was rambling, and Hank was listening with a smile. Despite what Connor said, he didn't delete the text message with his own address.

"Okay, dork, but you didn't answer my question. When?" Hank asked again, almost certain the smile he has is audible through his words.

"Oh, oops! I have classes on Wednesdays and Saturdays." He said sweetly. Hank had never been happier about it being a Tuesday ever. "The classes are from 5 to 6:30," Connor added. Hank was nodding as though Connor was in front of him and typing all of this in the notepad app.

"And the, uh, private lessons?" Hank asked, face warm with the blood that had rushed into it, not allowing his brain to go down _that_ road again.

"You can check my room before classes, I'm usually there from 4 to 6:30," Connor told him cheerily. Hank added all of this to the note he had, that he had titled "Yoga with dork".

"So, you sure that this is all free?" Hank asked, knowing he could pay if Connor wanted him to. He didn't want Connor to regret offering all this for free. He felt guilty enough having the thoughts he had about the brunette, which he was slowly starting to accept, as of late.

"Of course, Hank." Connor immediately reassured. His voice was sweet as always, but there was something underlying in his tone that Hank couldn't quite name. Some detective he was.

"Okay," Hank said, and he hated the awkward silence that hung in the air afterward. "So, uh, see you tomorrow?" He asked, hating how awkward he sounded as the words left his mouth.

"Yes." Connor simply said. He sounded as though his mind was elsewhere.

"Good night, Connor," Hank said, but before he could hang up, Connor spoke.

"Good night, Lieutenant~," Connor said sweetly. Hank's face burned. Connor had hung up but Hank had barely noticed. His head was swimming and as he just replayed the sound of Connor saying his rank like that in his head, he realized he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Normally, he would be scared, to some degree. Hank Anderson, though he'd never admit it to anyone else aside from himself, was entirely a coward. And yet, he found that he could hardly wait to see Connor tomorrow and do some fucking yoga. What the fuck was his life turning into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> connor was obviously thinking about hank plowing into him after hours. or plowing into hank, who knows :0


	6. Hey Hank, That's Really Vague

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank talks to Connor on Wednesday morning. He asks Connor how he feels about his job, and says something he begins to regret when Connor asks him the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have given up on serious chapter titles

Hank chatted with Connor on Wednesday morning as usual, although there was something heavy in the air when he walked into the cafe. He greeted Connor, the usual slow, soft music playing. Hank found that he really enjoyed the vibe of the place, not too loud and strangely comforting in comparison to his work.

"Good morning, Connor. The usual, of course." Hank said it almost jokingly, smiling at the way Connor immediately came over to him. Like a personal fucking waiter. It was cute.

"Alright, Hank." Connor smiled back as Hank passed the male a twenty. Connor's expression quickly changed. He looked very puzzled, looking from the twenty-dollar bill to Hank, one brow raised in question.

"Keep the change, dork," Hank assured as Connor looked at him with confusion. Connor blushed and nodded, going to the register and pocketing the change before going to the back to make Hank his coffee. Hank had a feeling of satisfaction. He felt like at least for a second he was helping Connor as much has Connor was helping him, unbeknownst to said brunette.

Hank had been drinking significantly less at home, often not really needing to. He had hidden away the pictures he had of Cole and his ex-wife while he was drunk and did not remember where he hid them. He never looked though, knowing it was for the better that he didn't find them again.

While he waited, Hank looked around the small coffee shop. A Jerry was conversing with a customer at the front who had dirty blond hair and a scarred face. A blond waiter, who Connor had introduced a week back or so as 'Simon', was speaking to another male at the table with tanned skin and seemingly heterochromia; his right eye was green, but his left was blue. The way Simon smiled at the other man reminded Hank of Connor’s smile, in some way. Hank saw another Jerry giving coffees to a female with long, braided red hair who was sitting next to a paler female with seemingly silky blond hair in a ponytail. He turned when he heard footsteps and was greeted by the sight of Connor holding his coffee with a smile.

"Thanks, Con," Hank mumbled before picking up the coffee and taking a sip. Connor just put his head on his hand as he watched Hank with a small smile before speaking.

"Of course. And… thank you for the tip," Connor thanked him, looking away for a moment before looking back at Hank, right into his eyes. Hank's heart throbbed for a moment as he met Connor's gaze. There was something burning there, something so intense that just looking back into those brown eyes made his chest constrict with tightness he hadn’t been prepared for. He looked away with a slight heat in his face, his fingers kneading into the ceramic mug’s handle. 

"You deserve it," He choked out, words suddenly becoming difficult. He slowed his breathing. What the fuck even was that? Did he almost hyperventilate just because they looked at each other in the eyes? If that was the case, Hank really was a goner.

Connor smiled wider at this and watched as Hank took another quick swig of his coffee and set the mug down. Hank then spoke, desperate to ignore what just happened.

"Why did you start working here?" He asked. He realized he kind of sounded like a dick, as though he didn't approve of Connor's job, so he added: "I mean, for money? Or do you just enjoy it?"

"Oh. I, uh, I actually really like it here. Just the aura of this place is really nice to me..." Connor trails off, looking around the small shop before looking at Hank again. "And I really like seeing you every morning." He added, a small blush dusting his cheeks. "So I would say I just enjoy it, although it's nice being able to pay for my apartment." 

Hank nodded. "My job is alright. It's not nearly as bad as it used to be with you cheering me up every mornin'." He confessed. He figured it be safe enough to say; there probably wasn't too much Connor could do with the information that he cheered Hank up because Hank had a feeling that he knew that already.

"Why did it used to be bad?" Connor inquired, looking thoughtful. Hank hadn't expected that question and he panicked slightly. He didn’t want to scare Connor off with all the shit he really deals with inside his head. He scrambled his mind for an answer, not being able to come up with a lie fast enough.

"Well, I've got, uh, baggage." He had sighed, looking down into his coffee. He knew it was vague, and not the answer Connor wanted; he could see a sliver of frustration in Connor’s face when he dared to look up, but his expression softened as though the frustration was never there in the first place. He felt Connor's hand on his jaw and nearly fell back in his seat to the floor. Connor’s hands were extremely soft, and Hank dared to lean into his touch ever-so-lightly, unsure if Connor would even notice. He lifted Hank's head up and looked him in the eyes, the same intensity. Hank recognized that look but didn't have a name, though he wished for the life of him that he could remember, because it made his brain go to mush and his breathing labor as though he’d just run a marathon.

"Like what?" Connor asked gently, eyes on Hank, gauging his expression for any sort of answer. He then caught himself and looked away, blushing out of what was probably embarrassment. "I mean, you don't have to-"

Hank shook his head, making Connor's hand fall to the table.

"Maybe one day I'll grow the balls to tell you." He uttered. He looked back at Connor, hating the look of disappointment and confusion on his face.

"Trust me, dork, it's not you. Don't let this ruin your morning." Hank reassured, messing up Connor's hair. He blushed a bit as he felt Connor lean into his touch. He removed his hand and took the last swig of his coffee before setting the mug down and getting ready to leave.

"Hank?" Connor asked just as Hank was about to say goodbye.

"Yeah?" He stopped in his tracks, looking at Connor. Connor's face was contorted with uncertainty, and he bit his lip. Hank’s eyes were drawn to the movement, and he felt his breath hitch when Connor’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. He prayed to every and any god that the sound he made in his throat wasn’t audible.

"...Never mind. Goodbye, Hank, have a nice day and I'll see you later." Connor exhaled, seeming quite conflicted, but Hank didn't feel there was anything he could do about it. So he just waved goodbye to Connor with an apologetic smile and set out for his car, trying not to think too hard about what it could have been that Connor wanted to say to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its ok connor you can kiss him all better... right? right?????? x_x


	7. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank gets home from work and mentally prepares himself for whatever the hell is going to happen at the fucking yoga class.

Hank swore the day passed by two times slower than it usually would. He arrived at work at around 8 AM. Meeting Connor definitely got him back up to par at work, too. He had been arriving a lot earlier, mainly because he woke up earlier to catch Connor with slight bed-head hair, always a sight. He ignored a snide comment from Reed as he sat in his desk and began to work with great acquiescence.

Hours passed by like days, and by the time it was 4 PM, Hank was fucking out of there. He had gotten enough work done and was extremely glad to be out of that building. He got into his car, which he briefly considered cleaning but wanted to get to Connor's fucking yoga place early for "private lessons", so he set a mental note to clean his car another day. Not a Wednesday or a Saturday, anyway. He shifted into reverse, backing out of the parking lot and then shifted into drive. He managed to calm himself down on the ride home from the irritation of work that day, blasting heavy metal out of his speakers with little consideration for those driving around him.

He waited about 20 fucking hours at a red light before being able to continue his journey home, since the big lump of fur needed food and water. And the big lump of fur probably needed to take a shit. He pulled onto his street, grateful to finally be home even though he knew he would be setting out again for the private lessons. Private lessons, those which he had not let himself think about for more than five minutes at work. He heard a 'Boof!' and knew Sumo must have seen him through a window or heard his car. He rolled his eyes and unlocked his door, trying not to get attacked by Sumo as he walked into his house. He closed the door behind him and made his way to the kitchen to get Sumo's food. He poured the dog some food and made sure he still had water (he did) and decided to take the dog for a walk for a change. He put on Sumo’s old collar- which didn’t fit him very well, but it worked- and clipped the leash to it. They could both use the exercise.

He walked through the cool air, finding that it grounded him quite a bit. He collected himself, not at all acknowledging the dog, but thinking about Connor. A lot of his mind nowadays was filled with thoughts of Connor, whether he liked it or not. He was thinking about the "private yoga lessons" and how much he'd probably frustrate Connor with how not flexible and absolutely not fit he is. As much as he didn’t want to upset Connor... frustrated Connor sounds hot.

Oh god, did he really just think that?

He shook his head as if it'd clear it, though thoughts still swarmed in his mind. He noticed Sumo slow his pace, and he knew the dog was getting tired. He took this as a sign to turn back around, back towards the house. He felt almost guilty- he hadn’t walked poor Sumo in a while. He just never felt up to leaving the house. Sumo’s pace sped up when he realized that they were going back home; the dog sure was eager to sleep, Hank supposed, laughing to himself.

After a few minutes of strangely peaceful walking, he arrived back at his home, hardly getting the door open before Sumo bounded back inside. Hank hung his coat up and heaved a sigh.

He walked to his bathroom after watching Sumo flop down onto the ground in his usual spot near the television. He grabbed a hair-tie from his ex-wife's old pack that he still had. He knew these could be useful at one point. With a pang, he remembered making a tiny ponytail in Cole's hair when they had been about to get it cut. It wasn't nearly as long as Hank's was now, but it still hurt to remember. Bittersweet, most memories were. He shooed the memory away. Shit like that was not gonna ruin his evening.

Hank pulled on an old T-shirt that was actually rather big on him, and he supposed his half-assed attempt at dieting was somewhat working. He looked himself up and down in the mirror, and for once he didn’t feel as strong of self-loathing as he usually would. He was relatively well-groomed and he had put in his ear crawlers, just to gauge Connor’s reaction to the copious amount of piercings on his ears. It was only 4:12 when he took a minute to mentally prepare himself for whatever the fuck would happen in that room.

But he would soon find that nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger ha ha but jokes on you i'll prob update it in like 20 minutes anyways lol


	8. Private Lessons, Huh?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank arrives early and warms up with Connor.

Hank put on a jacket before exiting the house and getting into his car. He was practically buzzing with anticipation. He put in the address Connor gave him for the building in his GPS. He drummed his fingers to the jazz music he chose to play, a contrast to the heavy metal he usually blared. It helped to just listen to the almost calming, smooth voices as he attempted to quell his nerves. He made his way to the yoga place Connor had told him about, arriving and just then realizing he had no idea what room Connor was in. He also realized that he had Connor's number- also realized he could have been spared some late-night pining- and could just ask what room he was in. So he did. He asked and got a very quick response.

"Room 8 :)", it read, so Hank walked down the hall until he found Room 8. He hesitated for a moment, smoothing his clothing out a bit and taking a deep breath. He then decided  _ fuck it _ and knocked and heard Connor's sing-song voice from inside.

"You can come in!" Connor had called. Hank opened the door and almost fucking died.

Connor was wearing a baggy shirt that practically hung off his shoulder and TIGHTS. Fuckin' TIGHTS. He was wearing extremely short, skin-tight black shorts over them just so you couldn't see his boxers. Not only that, but he was also doing a fucking split and Hank had quite the view of Connor's perfect ass. He could even see the hem of Connor's boxers through the tights. He meant to speak, but his words caught in his throat as he tore his eyes from Connor's ass. He looked to Connor's face, as Connor had just turned his head around, still doing the fucking split.

Connor seemed as stunned as Hank was, eyes on Hank’s hair being back specifically, eyes wide as he noticed the piercings. He shook his head lightly, and it was such a small movement Hank might not have noticed it had he not been forcing his eyes on Connor’s face, knowing if he hadn’t, they’d definitely… travel. Connor blinked and tilted his head slightly, smirking.

"Hello, Hank~," He greeted, emphasizing Hank's name in a way that shouldn't be legal. And Hank had no fucking idea why Connor was talking like this or if it was just him, but Christ, why was it getting to him as much as it was? Hank was just standing there, at a complete loss for words. When he did speak, it had absolutely nothing to do with whatever the fuck he just witnessed.

"Hey, Con. I, uh, I just realized I don’t have a mat." Hank said, not wanting awkward silence to fall just after they greeted each other.

"Oh, that's quite alright. I have one you can use." Connor replied and walked up to a door. Hank was definitely not watching his ass. Connor opened what seemed to be a supply closet and pulled out a navy blue mat. He closed it, but not before Hank noticed that the closet could probably fit both of them. Some food for thought. Connor was walking over to Hank with the mat and for whatever reason Hank's heart was fucking slamming against his chest so hard and fast that he swore it was trying to escape. Was it really just because he was in a room alone with Connor?

Oh, God, he was in a room alone with Connor.

In the back of his mind, he wondered when it got this bad. He had some long nights of pining, but he never really let that get to him when he was actually around Connor. "You sure I'm not totally gonna embarrass myself in front of people who are, like, ten times better at yoga?" Hank asked, self-conscious for obvious reasons.

"This is only my 3rd class, Hank," Connor told him. Oh. "Even so, I've noticed that you've already lost some weight," Connor commented and brought his hands to Hank's chest before pulling them away. Hank actually blushed like he was a fucking teenager and he cursed at himself internally for doing so.

"Uh, yeah... Just cuttin' back on alcohol," He admitted sheepishly. "And dieting..." He added in a mutter. Connor smiled and grabbed his hand with that same, intense look in his eyes that Hank could never seem to figure out.

"You'll be fine, Hank," Connor assured with such certainty that Hank wanted to pull away out of fear that Connor could feel so strongly. He then remembered the certainty that Connor lacked earlier that morning.

"What were you going to say to me this mornin'?" Hank asked, genuinely curious now what it was that Connor was going to say.

"Maybe one day I'll grow the balls to tell you," Connor repeated what Hank had said that morning. He was smiling, but it didn't look happy. He pulled his hand away and Hank's hand fell to his side. Hank couldn't keep looking at that pained smile, so he looked at his shoes, suddenly finding them extremely interesting. Connor spoke again to break the silence. "I'll just... I'll just see what you can do," He said and sat back down on the mat. Hank figured he was supposed to sit down as well, so he did. He sat on the navy blue mat Connor had pulled out and looked up at him now.

"You sure you're willing to teach me?" Hank asked, knowing how much he might frustrate Connor.

"Positive. Now, uh... Touch your toes." Connor started with something simple, then demonstrated as though Hank didn't know how to touch his toes. Despite Connor touching his toes with ease, his expression was concentrated. Hank bent his knees and touched his toes, knowing he was doing it wrong. Connor gave him a 'really?' look. Hank sighed and straightened his legs, reaching as far as he could with a low groan. He couldn't even reach his fuckin' toes. Connor seemed fine with this, though. "At least you're cooperating..." He muttered, standing up. Hank stood up too. Connor stretched his arms up. Hank did too, feeling his age all of a sudden. He actually stretched rather than just holding his arms up like he was tempted to do. Connor gave him a little nod with a small smile on his face. Hank smiled too because that bastard's smile is contagious. Connor stretched his arms behind his back and Hank followed, despite his protesting body. 

About 20 seconds later, Connor stopped.

"Lunges. 10 of them." Connor commanded. Oh,  _ fuck _ . Hank silently wished he was behind Connor solely for the view he would be receiving. "Like this," Connor said and demonstrated.

_ Yeah, I fuckin' know, _ Hank thought but didn't say out loud, just nodded. Connor started counting quietly and with each one, the pain got worse. Hank let out a brief string of "oww"s by the final one. Connor gave him a soft smile. Hank was surprised he didn't melt at just how cute Connor was. He was horrified when Connor spoke again, though:

"Hmm... Ten squats."

When Hank didn't budge, Conor rolled his eyes. "Do I need to demonstrate?" He asked sarcastically. Hank's cheeks flushed slightly and he shook his head. Hank hadn't done a squat (or a lunge) in well over ten years, but when Connor started counting, he did them anyway, despite many protests from his already aching muscles. When they finished, Hank was tempted to flop on the ground and die.

"Ow." He groaned. "Ow" was the biggest understatement of the fucking year. Connor's expression softened, less concentrated, and more gentle.

"Thank you for actually doing it," Connor laughed, giving him a grateful smile. Hank raised a brow, surprised Connor was thanking him.

"You're offering it for free, it's the least I could do," Hank replied honestly. It hurt like hell, but he didn't totally hate it. He was starting to get used to the pain of being unfit.

And then, Connor said: "Ten push-ups."

_ I totally hate this, I hate this _ \- Hank's body screamed  _ NO  _ but he got into a push-up position anyway. Just as Connor opened his mouth to start counting, there was a knock on the door. "My savior," Hank muttered as Connor sighed and made his way to the door. Hank's eyes rested on the clock, which read 5:00.

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that that’s all there was to their “private lesson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh lawd they comin


	9. Some Old, Some New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank meets the other members of Connor's small yoga class. Some faces were familiar, others not so much, but Hank was sure of one thing and that was that Simon knew something that he didn't.

With brief disappointment, Hank realized that the knock on the door was most likely someone else coming into the room for the actual class. Maybe he should be glad- he was saved from pushups, after all-, but part of him had the nerve to be disappointed that nothing more had happened between them during their private lessons, despite Connor’s awfully suggestive wording.

He luckily thought to get out of push-up position and stand up before Connor opened the door to let in a male with brown eyes and short brown hair that was mainly hidden with a baseball cap, wearing a grey military jacket with patches. The man took off his jacket and put it on the coat hanger near Hank’s own. He was holding a yoga mat, which was white with pigeons. Hank didn't even know that they had yoga mats that were more than flat colors. But, then again, Hank knew absolutely nothing about yoga. Behind him was a beautiful girl, whom Hank recognized from the coffee shop. She was alone this time with her blond hair in a bun and a pale blue yoga mat that looked much like her eyes. Connor let them in, giving them a friendly greeting. Hank watched as the two, who were obviously younger than him, laid out their mats. Connor gave Hank a gentle smile. 

"Hank, this is Rupert. Rupert, Hank." Connor motioned to the male with short brown hair. Hank reached out his hand and shook hands with the bird-mat dude- or Rupert- that Connor introduced him to. He seemed reserved, Hank noticed; he made little eye contact and laid down his mat a safe distance from Hank’s own - and the blonde girl’s, who had just set her own down. He turned to the pale female expectantly, and when Connor didn't speak, she gave a small smile (not as cute as Connor's smile, Hank thought in the back of his mind) and spoke in a soft voice.

"I'm Chloe," The blonde- Chloe- told him quietly and held out her hand. Hank gave a friendly smile in return.

"Hank," Hank introduced himself very very briefly and shook her hand. Soft, but surprisingly not as soft as Connor's were. He brought his hand back just as a dark-skinned male walked in carrying a dark magenta mat. 

"Hello, Josh. This is Hank." Connor greeted the male, Josh, as soon as he noticed him coming in. Hank gave a wave, and Josh waved back with a small smile.

"Hello," Josh said quietly as he laid out his mat beside Rupert's; Rupert glanced at him and seemingly smiled to himself before turning back around. Hank wondered what was going on there. Then, Simon- Hank remembered Simon all too well, and now wanted to laugh at himself for his immature jealousy- walked in. Hank saw Simon smirk and exchange a look with Connor. Connor blushed and made a cutting motion with his hand, mouthing "Stop!" as Simon snickered. Though, seconds later, the blonde male gathered himself and walked over to Hank.

"Hello, Hank. Connor has told me a lot about you." Simon clearly was trying not to smirk, but he was doing a bad job at forcing down the grin that threatened to overcome his features Hank glanced over at Connor. The small brunette groaned into his hands. The interaction had Hank furrow his brow, looking between the two for a moment before settling on Simon, who hadn’t quite succeeded at keeping down his smirk.

"Uh, hey," Hank said awkwardly, and then Connor whistled from the front of the room. Everyone turned to face him, Simon laying out his mat behind Hank. Connor was standing on his beige mat, which had occasional swirls of white. 

"Now that you've all met Hank, shall we begin?" Hank heard Connor ask, and he sounded more like a test administrator from Hank's old college rather than a yoga instructor. There were a few nods and Connor eyed them disapprovingly. Hank knew what was coming before the words left Connor’s mouth.

"Shall we begin?" He asked in a louder voice and gave a small laugh when there was a loud, scattered chorus of different forms of 'yes'; Hank just groaned. Connor gave him a thankful smile, which Hank couldn’t help but give him a private smile in return. He exhaled quietly as Connor sat on his mat and everyone, including Hank, followed suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very small class indeed. only five members...  
> *looks at smudged writing on hand*  
> ruqrt, chee, job, henk, and simn


	10. Fucking Yoga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank forces his decrepit body to do some fucking yoga and also tries not to die from Connor. Connor confuses Hank even more.

Everyone's eyes were on Connor, who was sitting in the front of the class on his mat. After a few seconds of silence, his soft voice rang out. 

"We're going to be doing a beginner's workout today." He simply said, looking at all of the five members in the room. He turns on an obnoxiously large flat-screen TV Hank hadn't even noticed and pulls up an image of the workout they'd be doing.

Connor looked from the board to the small number of people in the room. Hank just nodded, realizing dreading most of these positions. Connor looked uncertain as his gaze went from one member to the other. 

"Okay, I'll demonstrate the first one for you. If the picture doesn't demonstrate it well enough, that is." Connor said and did the first of the twelve positions. Hank tried to recreate it and literally heard something crack. Connor and Josh looked at him, Connor looking concerned at the least. Hank just gave an awkward shrug, or what was supposed to be one. It wasn't easy shrugging in... whatever the fuck position he was in. "Warrior I," said the image. They stayed like that for about a minute and Hank's knees were threatening to give out, so he was grateful when Connor stopped. 

Although he couldn't be happy for long, because a few seconds later, Connor called out "Next position!" and got into 'Warrior II.' Hank thought he was doing it but was incorrect when he realized it was his left leg that had to go to the right. Oh, that's... He sighed and fixed himself, now beginning to feel the pain. Of course, he wasn't doing it right before. It didn't hurt. Now it did, though, and he was very thankful to move on from that.

And then he saw Connor get into the third position: Warrior III. _Did they seriously just not have any sort of ideas of what to name these?_ Hank laughed at the repetitiveness of the position names before doing his best to copy Connor’s posture. Hank nearly fell about eight times trying to put himself in the position and had one hell of a time trying to stay in it. He noticed as he was looking up at Connor, though, that Connor had stopped. He almost fell to the ground but managed to stand successfully with a lot of fucking willpower he didn't know he had.

He looked back up at the Promethean board and swore to himself that if he saw another position that had anything to do with warriors, he would up and fucking leave this room. With a great deal of struggling, he got into the position about ten seconds later than everyone else had, not being able to reach his hand down his ankle nearly as far as everyone else could, although it was clear that they were struggling as well. Hank suddenly realized that he wasn't entirely bad. Well, comparing him to others, he was still the worst at it but he wasn't terrible. He was... trying. His ability to forgive himself for what he considered to be a failure just then caught him off guard, but he had little time to think of it because now Connor was looking at him strangely and standing back up.

Connor switched the position to the fifth one, fucking "downward facing dog", and Hank nearly choked on air. Connor just had to do it facing the wall, so Hank was there with a perfect fucking view of his ass. Hank tried to look up to admire the view and actually fucking fell. He let out an embarrassed laugh, which almost came out as more of a groan, as everyone looked over at him... Oops? Connor turned around and look back at Hank. And that damn kid... Connor had the audacity to fucking WINK. Hank rolled his eyes despite the warmth rushing into his cheeks. 

He was very glad that Connor got out of that position soon after and switched to the sixth one, which was way less painful for Hank down there because Connor had the decency to face Hank this time. Hank swore that Connor did that shit on purpose, and the fatal wink was just the icing on the fucking cake. He felt some area in his chest burn and winced, soon feeling the pain of this position, as he did with every position so far.

Connor luckily got out of that position as well, and Hank realized with dread that the next position was a squat hold. Or, "Chair." Luckily, Connor faced the class for this one too and decided not to torture Hank. Hank, even so, couldn't describe the sheer agony of this position. It felt like his legs were on fire and he almost fell over twice before Connor decided that was enough of that position.

Then... Revolved Chair? Yeah, fuck that, Hank was gonna have to sit this one out. He watched as Connor did it perfectly and the others... tried to do it perfectly as well, and most of them were alright. Connor gave him a pleading look, puppy eyes and all, and Hank just rolled his eyes and did the fucking position. He instantly felt it and it was awful, agonizing. He was about to fucking collapse when Connor stood back up. Even Connor looked a bit disgruntled after that one, but he didn't show it apart from a slight sweat drop on his forehead and furrowed brows. Hank is suddenly glad he thought to wear deodorant, too, because in the Detroit winter, here he was in this room full of people- who are much better at yoga than him- sweating.

Connor turned to look at the board to see what was next, and didn't turn back around, just did position number nine, which was the "Standing Half-Forward Bend." Connor was going all out, and Hank did it as well, but couldn't pretend he wasn't eying Connor's ass again. Connor was bending far enough to see Hank's thoroughly fucking crimson face, and he just gave a mocking smile. "Is something the matter, Hank?" He asked sweetly, his voice like poisoned honey. Connor just had to know what he was doing. There was no way Hank was imagining this shit, right?

Simon snickered from behind Hank.

Hank looked at the ground with his face feeling like it was on fire too and shook his head. Connor luckily stopped with that position, and Hank rose back up and stood, feeling immediate alleviation (and slight dizziness) as his blood flow corrected itself. Then Connor glanced over at the board, not turning around fully as he had before, and did the "Forward Bend." Hank was just thinking _end me now_ as he gave an attempt to do the position. Pain. Lots of it. Hank wasn't even doing it right, he literally, physically, could not do it. But he did what he could. 

Connor must have deemed that good enough because he was standing up again and turning his head to look at the next position. Hank was grateful that it was a push-up hold, or a plank, which he could do with somewhat ease. He had been desensitized to them from all of the training it’d taken him to even be a cop. Connor got down in a push-up position and held it and Hank did too, but training or not, it’d still been a while for the older man. It got to the point where his arms were shaking slightly, but Hank still held his fucking position until Connor got up.

Hank looked up from his "position" (he had flopped on the ground, not held up by his shaky arms) and saw the twelfth and final position. Okay, so another push-up hold but arguably more painful. Nice. He didn't have to do much as he waited for Connor to get back down and he got into the position. His elbows gave out at one point but he got back up, and Connor smiled very wide at him, and this made him feel... surprisingly good about himself. Eventually, at the point where Hank's elbows were shaking terribly, Connor stopped, actually flopping to the ground himself and letting out a small "whew..." before getting up and wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Everyone stood up as well, and Hank's knees were buckling beneath him but he managed to lock his knees and keep himself standing, swaying slightly before steadying.

"I'm very impressed, you all did very well," Connor commented, looking from person to person and stopping to smile at Hank. Hank smiled back. Contagious. Connor spoke again. "You may leave now." He dismissed the members, and people began to gather their things and leave the classroom. As Hank was about to wave goodbye to Connor, Connor grabbed his arm and stopped him. He turned to Connor.

"Hank? Can I say something to you?" He asked, not letting go of Hank's arm. Simon made a choked noise as he winked at Connor. Connor scowled at him, which was honest-to-whatever-fuckin’-god the most menacing he’d ever seen Connor.

"Yeah, sure." Hank agreed, obviously, and Connor was clearly waiting for everyone to exit. Once the door had closed and left them alone, Connor looked back at Hank.

That fucking look was in his eyes again, and suddenly Hank's heart was pounding. He was alone in the room with Connor again, but now they were a whole lot closer than they had been before. Hank didn't say a fucking word, just waited for Connor to speak. Connor, to Hank's surprise, just said nothing. Just stared Hank with such hesitance that it was painful for Hank to watch Connor have an obvious internal struggle. Before Hank could even begin to speak, Connor pulled him into an embrace. Hank was standing there at first, surprised, but soon hugged the male back.

"This is for...?" Hank asked, looking down at Connor's head, which was in his shoulder. Connor broke away.

"Maybe one day I'll grow the balls to tell you." Connor croaked in a repetition of what he’d said just hours prior.

And then he walked out, leaving a confused Hank standing in the middle of the classroom holding a yoga mat.


	11. Unfortunate Recollections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Hank and Connor are stressed to no end. Connor gets advice from Simon, and Hank reflects.

_What the fuck?_ _  
_ Hank was driving home and his head was swimming. He had his car radio blaring Knights of the Black Death as he made his way back to his place, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

He knew he wasn’t amazing at communicating with Connor. Communication wasn’t his strong suit by any means, and anything that could be defined as a tough talk was something Hank avoided with his entire life. But as hypocritical as it was, it frustrated Hank to no end when Connor was vague like that. What couldn't Connor tell him? Why had Connor just left? It was all so confusing. Hank was so caught up in his own head that he almost got into a wre-

_The truck skidding on ice, hitting my car, knocking it over._

_Cole, screaming, screaming so loud. And I was sitting there, unmoving, and he was screaming and then he wasn’t, and he was already dead, and I didn’t even-_

He heard a honk. The light he was waiting for had just turned green. He drove, grateful to turn the corner onto his street and get home. He felt like he was going to be sick by the time he stumbled inside.

❊ ❊ ❊

Connor had just arrived in his own apartment, hitting the couch with a thud. He thought it’d be good to invite Hank to his classes- and it _was_ \- but it just made his own feelings much harder to manage, and if he was honest, more confusing. He pulled out his phone, hoping that Simon could help him.

"Call please?" Connor sent Simon, but he didn't give a chance to answer and called his friend. Simon took a nice minute, but he picked up. Connor felt relief when he heard his voice.

"Hang on, Markus." Connor heard Simon say, some distance away from the phone. "I'm sorry, babe, it's important." He said, still away from his phone. Then his voice was clearer. "You good?" Was the first thing he asked. Connor sighed.

"If I’m honest with you, Simon, I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like this about anyone and- Hank- I- He’s so… It’s so frustrating, so confusing-”

"Connor,” Simon interrupted Connor's venting. Connor let out a huff of breath. “Chill.”

"I'm sorry." Connor apologized, trying to gather himself. His nails had been digging into his palms and they had started bleeding. He hadn't even noticed. "It's just... I really like him, Simon."

"No shit," Simon scoffed, and Connor could practically hear Simon's eye roll.

"I don't know how to get him to let me in," Connor began. But before he could continue, Simon interrupted again.

"Let you in?" He questioned.

"Yeah, he has... baggage. That’s how he worded it. I want to help him, but I don't know how." Connor doesn't even know what baggage he is talking about, just recalling what Hank said this morning. It felt like it’d been days ago, somehow.

"Patience, Connor. He might take a while," Simon admonished. “I don’t know what he’s gone through, and neither do you, but some shit never heals all the way. He’ll open up about it when he’s ready.”

"Yeah, I know..." Connor sighed. He wanted... It was all so confusing. Connor wasn't naturally a flirt; he hadn't even had his first kiss before. But ever since he met Hank, he's been tempted to do things he had never even imagined before. It only confused him more. "Thanks, Simon. I think I'm gonna sleep early." Connor lied. He knew he wouldn't- couldn't- sleep.

"Alright, see ya, Conman," Simon said disbelievingly.

"Have fun with Markus," Connor teased and hung up, plopping his phone back down. He picked it back up less than a minute later, though. He opened his messages with Hank (which just contained the addresses and Hank asking for the room number) and stared. He began typing without really knowing what he was going to say.

"I have something to say. Since I me-" No. Connor backspaced it all.

"I know you may not feel the s-" Still no.

An hour passed and Connor had said nothing. He had typed 80 different attempts, sure, but he did not send a thing. He put his phone down on the coffee table and lay across the couch. He just stared at the ceiling, mind still racing.

And he wasn't the only one, either.

❊ ❊ ❊ 

Hank, who had poured all of his alcohol in the sink to avoid falling into old habits (he left one bottle, saying it was for a “special occasion”), was also sitting on the couch. His gun was where he usually kept it in his bedside drawer.

He was not taking it out tonight.

He was trying to think of what was wrong with Connor. What he could have done to upset Connor. His mind was racing and it was all Connor Connor Connor. He'd only known Connor for a month, maybe two, now. It felt like years. He tapped his fingers on the couch. Sumo, who was sitting in front of it, licked his hand. "Yeah, hi, Sumo." Hank gave a half-hearted laugh and scratched behind the dog's ears. Sumo leaned into his hand. Hank had a surge of appreciation for the dog; he always seemed to know when Hank was stressed, and it honestly was grounding to be able to pet the dog and calm his mind a bit. He gave the dog some head scratches fondly.

Hank recalled Connor, who he swore had leaned into his hand when he ruffled his hair. Connor, who always beamed at him every morning. Connor, who seemed so invested in knowing more about Hank. Hank felt his heart physically hurt the more he thought about it, and he blamed it on the amount of physical activity he had for the day.

Hank didn't know how he'd speak to Connor tomorrow. He had absolutely no idea. He opened his phone to his messages with Connor. He actually saw that Connor was typing. He got his hopes up immediately, staring into the screen, transfixed.

Connor stopped typing.

Hank just stared for a moment longer, thinking maybe Connor had just dropped his phone or tapped a notification by accident. But there was no more typing.

 _Idiot_.

And Hank felt like one, too, getting his hopes up.

What couldn't Connor tell him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i feel like a twelve year old with the pov switches but i wanted to give you guys some sort of view on connor's thoughts and feelings as well, so you can expect more focus on connor in the future updates


	12. Waking Up, But Did You Really Sleep?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank has trouble finding the motivation to get up, and Connor gets scolded by Simon when he arrives at work.

Hank woke up with a terrible headache. It felt like somebody was fucking drilling into his brain. He knew it wasn't a hangover; the bottle he had kept when he got rid of his alcohol remained blissfully untouched, and he’d stayed home that night, restless. He got up from the couch, stretching and wincing when he felt pain in his neck. He didn't even remember falling asleep. He wanted so badly to collapse back onto the couch, but then again, he wouldn't be able to see Connor if he did that. 

So he got up. He went into the bathroom and took a piss, then gave himself a long look in the mirror. He found that he didn’t recognize the person staring back at him, eyes sunken, beard unkempt. He painfully realized he’d let himself fall apart. He let this happen.

And as much as it hurt to think it, he knew that Cole wouldn’t have wanted this.

He took a shower and trimmed up his beard, and on a whim, he trimmed his hair. He still had some skill from when he used to give himself haircuts in his teenage years. It wasn’t much more than a trim, but it did wonders for his confidence. He brushed his teeth, then went to his bedroom to get dressed.

It hurt with every step he took. Probably because of the yoga. Despite his pain, he felt a bit of pride for actually going through with it, and he didn’t let any self-deprecating thoughts kill the small amount of confidence it gave him.

He walked into the living room, borderline limping, and greeted Sumo, who had padded over to him almost as soon as he walked out from his bedroom. He scratched the dog’s chin for a moment before getting himself food. He looked in his cabinets, expectations low, and grabbed himself a box of some... uh… Dried Grape Bran.

He winced with almost every step. He expected to be sore, but this was fucking overkill. He grabbed the milk and poured it into the bowl, almost spilling it in the process. He didn't even eat much of it and ended up throwing most of it away. He didn't have much of an appetite this morning.

❊ ❊ ❊

Connor woke up at 5 in the morning. He only slept for about 26 minutes. He dragged himself off of the sofa, hitting his knee on the coffee table. He let out a cry as he gripped his quickly-bruising knee. He almost fell over but balanced himself.

At least he was awake now.

He got into his uniform, not having too much trouble doing so since he was only wearing his old shirt and boxers. He pulled on his tights and black shorts and put on his usual work apron over the old T-shirt. It wasn't torn or dirty, so he didn't care enough to change it. He used the bathroom and went to the mirror. His expectations were low, but… Yikes. He tried to comb his hair flat (unsuccessfully) and applied foundation over his eye bags in an attempt to cover them. It worked well enough. 

Minutes later, he was driving to the cafe when he heard his car make a concerning sputtering sound. He tensed as he stopped at a red light. It didn’t happen again that morning, and he got to the cafe and parked in his usual spot on the side of the building. He got out of his car, subconsciously still attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He made his way to the staff entrance sluggishly.

He greeted Jerry 2- helpfully, their nametags had them ordered from oldest to youngest by seconds-, who was cleaning mugs and preparing to open the cafe. Jerry 3 was cleaning tables and Jerry 1 was counting money from the register. Connor could tell from the redhead's mumbles that he was trying to figure out how much would be left after paying bills and how much he could pay the employees. Connor and Simon weren't paid too much, but they were doing well enough financially, so it worked out enough. Plus, it seemed that every few days, another person would find the cafe and incorporate it into their daily routine as Hank had begun to do.

Connor felt his heart twist as his brain wandered into Hank Territory. He snapped back into reality when Kara arrived noisily, red-faced.

"Sorry, I'm so late!" She panted. She really wasn't late, though, and Connor gave her a small smile.

"No worries, Kara, we haven't opened yet!" Jerry 1 laughed, patting Kara on the back, who was catching her breath. Kara lived close by, so she biked to work. She didn't have a car, either, so it's not like there were many other alternatives.

"Hi, Kara," Connor said, his voice sounding tired and unlike him. Kara gave him a look that he couldn’t bother to comprehend and he made his way to the kitchen. He saw Simon in the back preparing things to bake. He was tempted to just fall onto the floor and sleep, but he gave Simon a half-hearted wave. Simon turned to him.

"Hey Co... Dude..." Simon looked concerned; his brows were drawn together.

"What?" Connor asked quietly, not even having the energy to speak loud. Simon huffed and pulled Connor into the staff restroom. He let Connor go and pointed to the mirror. Connor only just saw himself for the first time since that morning when he applied the foundation. It was smeared and it was quite obvious that he was trying to cover the eye bags. He looked at Simon, feeling guilty. "Sorry..." He mumbled.

"Apologize to yourself, Connor." Simon sighed. "This is the kind of shit you pulled in college trying to pass an exam, not... not now."

"I know. I just can't stop thinking about him." Connor admitted, although it clearly wasn't a shock to Simon. Connor was constantly wanting to talk to Hank, but he never knew how to help. He especially had no idea how to confess to Hank. He wiped the rest of the foundation off, because at least then it wouldn't be obvious that he failed at concealing it.

"Just... take it slow," Simon advised. Connor nodded. He tried to fix his hair, but it clearly didn't feel like cooperating, so he walked out with Simon behind him. Simon put the pastries in the oven, and Connor prepared coffee. Despite being a waiter, he knew how to make the foods they had on the menu. And, of course, he knew how to make coffee. He served the people who came every day their usual orders, growing more worried as more time passed without Hank showing up. He almost dropped a platter with a ham and cheese croissant and orange juice for North. He handed Chloe, who was next to North, her coffee, which had been in the other hand.

"Connor, are you alright?" North asked, more than likely because she saw the dark circles under his eyes.

"Peachy." He said heartily, his voice sounding a lot cheerier than he expected. He was about to walk away, but North slapped his hand and put a 5 dollar bill in it.

"I hope this helps with something," North flashed him a hopeful smile, Chloe laying on her shoulder quietly. Connor smiled back and mouthed 'thank you', walking back into the kitchen.

The door opened with quiet bells (they'd been attached to the door about a week back for the approaching holiday) jingling. Connor's head whipped around hopefully.

It was Hank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger ???? :-0 next two chapters coming tomorrow hehe


	13. Taking It Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor takes Simon's advice and is patient with Hank and as the weeks go by, they learn more about each other.

Connor saw Hank and let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He watched as Hank sat at the usual table. He hurried into the kitchen and prepared Hank's coffee, not rushing the coffee and pouring a bit more than usual because Hank looked almost as tired as Connor felt (and was.) He walked over to the table, careful not to spill Hank's coffee.

"Hi, Hank," Connor chirped when he met Hank at the usual table. Hank looked up at him, lack of sleep quite obvious on his face. Connor resisted the urge to frown, but he wasn't smiling anymore.

"Hey, Con," was all Hank said before he took the coffee and drank half of it. Connor looked from him to the coffee. He could really use a coffee right now. Hank put the mug down and looked back up at Connor. He put his hands on Connor's face, tracing the dark circles under his eyes. Connor felt his face flush instantaneously and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into Hanks’ hands.

"Looks like you and I have the same problem," Hank chuckled. Connor's heart was beating hard. He liked it when Hank touched him. He was disturbed that he had to suppress an urge to lick Hank’s hand. Hank let his hand fall down to the table and Connor’s eyes followed it. 

Hank had no idea how much Connor cared about him. He was tempted to say it, here and now. But he remembered Simon's words and figured it'd be for the best that Connor takes it slow. So Connor chatted about different things, changing the subject from their sleep deprivation. He gave Hank hints, but Hank just really wasn't getting it.

And he did it for several weeks. He'd asked Hank questions without trying to be too pushy. Hank had improved a lot at yoga, and they'd drifted from beginner's yoga to intermediate. Connor was pretty f... Alright, he'd say it. He was pretty fucking proud of Hank. He just wished he could show it better than a smile. But every time he was tempted to do so, Simon's words called him back to rationality. It'd be best to get closer to Hank. 

And he did get closer, learning more and more about the police lieutenant he just had to fall in love with. Hank's favorite color was blue, and that was something he and Hank had in common.

"I am really starting to appreciate brown, though," Hank had said. Connor didn't use to like blue nearly as much. But then he met Hank. That was... two and a half months ago. He also learned what Hank's best subject in school was history, and Connor listened fondly when Hank ranted about how 2020 had a “shitty” president, with child-like enthusiasm. Hank learned that Connor’s best subject, at least academically, was English. He was always great in Physical Education, though. 

Connor, currently, sat outside of his apartment in the late November breeze, recalling a few of their conversations. 

"Used to be cheeseburgers. I'm not too sure, now. I don't really eat those anymore," Hank had said. Connor thought for a moment before responding.

"You'll just have to try new things, hm?" Connor suggested with a shrug. Hank looked away bashfully.

“I’m no good with change, Connor,” He laughed awkwardly. Connor’s face softened.

“We can work on it together then,” Connor offered with a hopeful smile, and Hank sighed and smiled back.

“Yeah, maybe,” Hank mumbled, appearing thoroughly embarrassed.

On another morning, Connor asked, "What do you like in a partner?" He hoped he didn’t imagine the pink that tinged Hank’s cheeks.

“Well, shit, that’s not an easy question. I can’t really be picky, I just need someone who won’t run off and can put up with my shit,” Hank paused, already seeming flustered. “But also… when they look at you and you can just… feel their love, you know? And then you feel it in _your_ heart…” Hank trailed off and bit his lip. Hank’s use of a gender-neutral pronoun didn’t go unnoticed by Connor, and Connor took that as a good sign.

Connor smiled at that. "I think I know what you mean," He had replied. He knew that he knew what Hank meant. Because... Because he was in love with Hank. He’d admit it to himself. Shocker.

Less than a week later, Connor asked him, "What's your ideal date?"

"Just being outside at night. It's really nice out there if you're out in nature or some shit. Just away from people where you can see the stars..." Hank had trailed off, but Connor was listening attentively.

"I'll remember that," He had hummed, earning a flustered sound from Hank.

“Fuck you trying to remember that for?” Hank asked, and though his brows were furrowed, he was blushing. Connor giggled at the sight of it and gave an innocent shrug.

“I don't know,” Connor lied defensively, and Hank dropped it with a roll of his eyes.

And a few days ago, on a Tuesday morning, Connor inquired, looking as though he were bracing himself, "What do you like the least about me?"

"The fact that you're hiding something from me," Hank said with little hesitation, and Connor’s heart clenched.

"Hypocrite," Connor remarked, smirking. Hank just looked away with a guilty look on his face, but Connor gave him a friendly shove. 

"Maybe one day we'll grow the balls to tell each other," Hank chuckled at his use of the phrase the two of them had been throwing back and forth repetitively, dancing around one another, both too scared to say anything that would make them vulnerable.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gahh sorry if this chapter was a drag, i'm working with little to no content so it's hard to make them longer and worth reading,, i hope you guys liked it anyways though :,)


	14. Christmas Time Comes Rollin' In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The staff of the cafe, as well as some friends, come in to help decorate for the holidays.

It was well into December in Detroit, and no one needed a calendar to figure that out; the deadly cold outside was very much enough of a giveaway. It was a Friday, and it marked the day that Connor was to decorate the cafe with the rest of the staff. He'd been texting Hank a lot more often now, too, and he asked Hank to come along with him. After all, Hank knew the entire staff and was at least well-acquainted with them.

Hank accepted, and that day Hank came bearing an obnoxious amount of Christmas decorations. He was also dressed as Santa- although that was an overstatement. He'd thrown on a Santa hat, but it worked well enough. Connor was dressed as a reindeer. He had antlers, a painted-on black nose, and was even wearing a maroon collar with bells on it that matched a slightly tattered maroon sweater.

It took a while to move the decorations from out of Hank's car. Hank helpfully even brought a Christmas tree, which Kara almost put together wrong. It took a lot of frustration and swearing on her part before her boyfriend, Luther, helped set up the tree instead while Kara sat and sulked. Kara was useful, though, and ended up sharing a recipe for chocolate mint cookies to Simon. Simon immediately took the opportunity to learn the recipe and tried to bake based on what Kara was telling him. In Hank's words, the cookies were:

"Really fucking good," Connor had hung up a mistletoe, which Kara and Luther immediately kissed under. Ralph, another patron invited by Jerry 1, had gasped. Jerry 2 had invited North and Chloe, who were also frequent patrons. Anyone who had been coming into the cafe for a while was invited, and Hank was grateful for the fact that it wasn't anyone he hadn't already met.

Connor knew that Hank definitely noticed the mistletoe, despite hanging up ornaments with North and Jerry 2. Connor had caught him eying it on many occasions. Hank had just found out that North and Chloe were a couple. As though to prove it, North yanked Chloe under the mistletoe. With embarrassment, Chloe kissed back, her face flushing red. Ralph had seen this, too, and looked away after glancing at Jerry 1. Ralph hurriedly walked over to Jerry 1, and though he didn't take him under the mistletoe, he grabbed his hand with his own scarred one, and Jerry smiled fondly at him and laced their fingers. Hank had his own smile at the loving display he'd accidentally witnessed. Hank then looked at the mistletoe, and then at Connor. His cheeks reddened when Connor caught him looking. He turned away and continued to help set up streamers in the kitchen. Connor was a very observant person. He noticed these things.

He wanted to kiss Hank- he had since he met the older man- but knew it wasn't the right time, as much as he felt the urge to do so. He set up tinsel around the counter at the front as Hank drunk hot cocoa and Simon tried to memorize the recipe. He kept using Connor as a tester for the cookies, so Connor ran back and forth between the back of the kitchen where Simon was making the cookies and where he was attempting to hang tinsel. He caught Hank staring at him, whether it be his ass or his sweat-plastered forehead, he had no idea, but he made eye contact and winked at him, grinning when it earned a blush from the lieutenant.

After the third cookie, with all three having turned out better than the last, Connor told Simon to stop or at least get someone else as a test monkey. Connor didn't want to throw his meticulous diet out the window because Simon was a perfectionist. After deciding he'd done enough, at least for a little while, Connor sank into an old swivel chair with a long sigh. Chloe, who was nearby, leaned on a table and startled to talk to him.

"Hi, Connor," Chloe said, voice quiet as it usually was. Connor looked up at her and gave a small smile.

"Hello, Chloe. You look nice," He complimented. She was wearing Christmas tree earrings, which matched her green and red eyeshadow and the ugly Christmas sweater she wore that was a little too big for her, but it suited her regardless.

"Oh, thank you," Chloe smiled, "North got me the sweater. I think she got it too big on me on purpose. She always says she likes how big clothes look on me, but I think I look stupid."

"Eh. I can see what she means," Connor shrugged, tapping his feet to "Winter Wonderland."

"You look nice too, Connor," Chloe returned the compliment with a smirk. "And I don't think I'm the only one who thinks so," She gave him a friendly shove, which made Connor's chair spin a bit, and Connor made a confused noise, but she was already walking away to join Markus and Josh where they were setting up Christmas lights outside.

Connor swayed in his chair to "Jingle Bell Rock" and hummed the familiar song quietly as he took in the environment. Everyone was having a good time and it felt really nice, Connor realized, being around people you care about and having fun. It wasn't something he did often. He did a full spin on his chair and dizzily watched as Hank walked over to him. He greeted Hank with a huge smile, which Hank returned shyly as he stopped next to Connor.

"You know what, Connor?" Hank asked, looking out at the activity in the cafe.

"What?" Connor said, his heart skipping beats.

"I'm really happy I met you." Hank had turned and was looking at Connor with a smile. Connor, knowing it wasn't always easy for Hank to communicate these things, felt his heart clench at the words. He made eye contact with Hank and cautiously grabbed the older man's hand. Hank didn't pull away.

"...Yeah. Me too," Connor replied honestly, squeezing Hank's hand. Happy was an understatement. Connor looked over at Hank and smiled back, hoping it conveyed what words could not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i usually have a goal to have my chapters be at least 1k words and i had to build this one up from 450 :,)


	15. Mint Frappes & Mishaps (Did I Stare In His Eyes Too Long?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank wakes up in a good mood and walks to the cafe. Connor flirts with Hank.

Hank woke up the next morning in a very good mood, doing his morning "routine” that he’d recently developed. He’d realized a month back that he should take better care of himself- maybe not just for Connor, but for himself, too. He dared to allow himself to think he deserved it, and it felt strangely nice. It was foreign, he hadn’t felt happy in a long time, but he concluded that it was definitely a welcome change.

He’d let himself sleep in until about 12:00 P.M., so he finally felt like he'd got enough sleep. He actually ate breakfast, although all he made was an egg salad sandwich. He washed it down with a glass of water. The water was another recent addition because he’d hardly drink water before, but Connor insisted he needed to incorporate it more into his daily diet. He could never say no to his stupidly convincing puppy eyes, so of course, he listened.

He'd cleaned out his fridge a week back and bought healthier things, and he felt like a different person looking up healthier food recipes. Frustratingly, a lot of the recipes he found were posted by soccer moms trying to get their children to eat healthier. Hank was a grown-ass man. Eventually, he’d found a couple of websites that he’d bookmarked, his old laptop doing it’s best to keep up with him. He felt quite proud of himself when he successfully made whole-grain waffles one morning; they surprisingly didn’t taste like shit.

He'd set up Christmas lights that he hadn't brought to the cafe outside of his house as well, feeling more holiday spirit this year than he had in a long time. More in the holiday spirit than he had since Cole’s death. He knew the words, and he was willing to accept that it was Cole’s death that had him spiral into a horrible state that he’d maintained for years. It was going to be fucking difficult to reverse years and years of damage, but he knew it was possible. He’d even gotten himself a therapist, despite himself, and it really helped to be able to have someone to give him direction.

Today was Saturday. And it was also Christmas Eve. 

He walked outside, deciding to walk to the cafe today. He saw more people than usual making their daily commute, some wearing panicking expressions and speed-walking with bags in their hands. Hank stopped at the cafe, smiling at the decorations outside. They'd done a pretty good job. 

He walked in, hearing the bells jingle behind him. He sat at his usual table and watched Connor turn, watching his brown eyes immediately look to the table. He saw Connor's face light up, his eyes sparkling. Hank smiled as he watched Connor rush over. "Hi, Hank!" He chimed, clearly in a good mood as well.

"Hey, Connor,” Hank greeted, ruffling his hair fondly. Connor momentarily leaned into his hand, and Hank liked the fact that Connor didn’t bother to try and meticulously fix his hair. “I can’t stay long, but I’ll take another one of the mint frappes you’re so good at making.” Hank grinned at the way Connor beamed at the praise, but his face soon fell.

"You aren't working today, no?" Connor asked, looking a little upset. Hank’s heart hurt at the way Connor’s face had fallen, and he’d given up blaming the way his heart would twist in his chest on anything else. His therapist had helped him admit to himself that he was in love again. She’d also helped him realize that it was okay to let himself be happy and that it was okay to love Connor. She’d been convinced that Connor returned Hank’s feelings, but Hank doubted it.

"God, no. I just need to buy something for someone. I'll still be at the class and everything, don't worry, dork." Hank explained, worsening Connor's hair with his hand. Connor leaned into it before Hank put his hand back down. Connor blushed at the nickname.

“Yeah, I ought to do some Christmas shopping too,” Connor said, seemingly thinking out loud. Hank let his eyes wander across the brunette’s face, counting his freckles. It was honestly therapeutic. Connor met his eyes and Hank’s heart sped up dangerously when he stared into Connor’s deep, brown eyes. Hank looked away, clearing his throat and fighting off a blush.

“Uh, the coffee?” He said, grateful his voice didn’t tremble the way his hands were.

"Oh- uh- okay!" Connor chirped. He rushed off to get Hank the coffee, bringing out a paper cup. That was clearly a new addition, but it was probably much easier than the usual mugs that would always have to be cleaned. Connor stopped and took out a sharpie he had in his apron pocket. Hank saw him write something on the cup and then he continued to walk over to Hank. He handed Hank the coffee and smiled. Hank took it out of his hand and looked at it. It said "Hank ♥". 

He smiled at the cup and turned to leave, but before he could, Connor took his arm and kissed his cheek. Hank blushed like a madman as Connor fucking  _ giggled  _ again. Hank watched, frozen in place, as Connor walked- no, he fucking sashayed- back into the kitchen, but not before winking at Hank. Hank, who could swear his soul left his fucking body for a moment. He regained his composure and walked out of the cafe with a wave to Simon, who just smirked from the register. Coffee in hand, he walked back home with a grin on his face.


	16. Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank seeks out the help of an old friend to get a fitting Christmas gift for Connor.

Hank got home and crashed on the couch, paper cup in hand. Sumo walked over to him and put his head in Hank’s lap, waiting expectantly. Hank sighed fondly and pet the dog’s head as he let his mind drift. He had to get a Christmas present for Connor, and he had to do it fast. He had lost track of time entirely and now it was Christmas Eve, and he only had that day to get Connor a present.

Realistically, he knew Connor wouldn’t expect anything, and wouldn’t be wounded if he didn’t receive a present from Hank. Hank’s therapist reminded him that Connor was grateful to have him in his life too; he’d said that much when they were decorating the cafe. Even though Hank knew he wasn’t obligated to buy Connor anything, he  _ wanted _ to. He wanted to see Connor’s face light up in surprise. Connor had done so much for Hank, he felt like it was only fair that Hank got him at least something as a thank you.

Hank finished off his coffee, looking dreamily at the way Connor wrote his name and spending extra time looking at the perfect heart he had put next to it. He got his coat back on, putting on a beanie to keep his ears from freezing off. He got into his car and put an address into his GPS, hoping it was the right one. It’d been a while. The route was all too familiar, though, as he drove down the winter-ridden streets of Detroit. He stopped at the flower shop past it's prime, the building in its entirety seeming a lot more lackluster than Hank remembered. He walked in, hearing the quiet ding that would ring out every time someone walked in, which he remembered all too well. He heard a gasp.

"Hank?!" It was Violet, the owner of the flower shop. She hurriedly made her way over to the front of the shop, looking at Hank in bewildered confusion. "Didn't she-"

"Yeah. It's not her," Hank interrupted.

"Oh, that's... that's wonderful, Hank." Violet said, smiling.

"He is," Hank said vaguely. "Wonderful, I mean." He added. Violet looked surprised when Hank said 'he', but bounced back fast.

"That's great. I haven't seen you in years." She turned to a door where she kept more flowers, and Hank followed, enjoying the familiar smell of fresh flowers.

Violet was a friend of Hank's from high school. He'd known her for a pretty damn long time. He hadn't seen her in a while, though. Not since he married his ex-wife. He did end up telling her about Cole and the divorce, though, back when they were still in touch. He stopped his train of thought as it headed into darker territory. He didn't want to think about that.

"Gimme like, the bluest flower you can find," Hank said, and Violet smiled.

"I think I have just the thing." She said confidently, her greying blonde hair falling into her face when she turned to him.

"Oh, really?"

"Mmmhmm." Violet hummed, motioning for him to follow her into the back room where she always kept most of the flowers that weren't on display. "His favorite color blue?" She asked, winding her way around all the floral arrangements on the tables.

"Yep." Hank simply said and watched as she took out a bouquet she had behind an arrangement of pink and yellow flowers. It contained several different flowers, all different shades of blue. Hank grinned.

"It's perfect, Violet. When did you put this together?" He asked, holding the bouquet gently as though it were made of glass.

"Well, I don't get business that often, so I have a lot of time on my hands," She confessed. He looked back up at her and set the bouquet down. He picked up a red and yellow bouquet and pretended to be observing it, but actually slipping $100 in it. He handed the bouquet to her and grabbed the blue bouquet, beginning to walk out. He stopped.

"Keep the change. Try using that to put yourself out there," He advised and walked out of the room.

"Hank, yo-" She was saying, but the door had closed behind him, bells jingling quietly, and he was leaving the small flower shop. 

He got home and had the keep the flowers out of an excited Sumo’s mouth-range. When he carefully set them down on the table, he decided to take the over-energized dog on a walk.

As he walked the dog, he got lost in thought. He fantasized about being Connor's boyfriend.

Boyfriend... The term seemed too childish to describe what they would be, how he felt for Connor.

As he went back now, with Sumo at his side, he thought about it more, though nothing seemed to fit. He set a mental note to think about it later because when he arrived home it was 4:37 and he didn't for the life of him want to be late.

He grabbed the yoga mat he’d gotten to buying rather than continuing to borrow from Connor, tied up his hair, put on his coat, and left for his private lessons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little shorter than i wanted it to be but i'm not working with a lot here so i hope you guys dont mind :,)


	17. Searching For The Ugliest Shirt They Sell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor goes to the mall on his lunch break to get a gift for Hank. Hank arrives for private lessons, and they do a lot less yoga and a lot more talking as they get to know each other better.

Connor realized after Hank’s visit to the cafe that he had yet to get the older man a present. He scrambled to plan what he’d get for Hank as he brought out orders and hours passed until he had his lunch break. For once, he used his break to leave the cafe and he hurriedly waved at Jerry 3 as he ran out the back door.

He frustratedly remembered he’d taken his car to be repaired that morning and called a taxi the second time that day. He got into the cab and greeted the driver with a small smile as he got into the passenger side.

“Hi, I’m Leila.” The woman driving greeted him, flashing a smile.

“Connor,” Connor introduced himself, grateful that the driver seemed friendly as they started towards the shopping mall.

“Last minute Christmas shopping?” Leila asked, probably having noticed Connor’s slightly panicked expression.

“Ah- yes,” Connor laughed breathlessly. He turned to look at Leila. She was aesthetically pleasing, auburn hair framing her face nicely and hardly going past her shoulders. Connor found himself comparing her to Hank in his head and scolded himself. He didn’t like the way that everything somehow led to Hank in his brain. Connor decided to speak more, not enjoying the silence that overcame the cab. “I still have no idea what to get him, honestly.”

“Well, what does he like?” She asked, tilting her head as she glanced at him.

“Ahm- he likes heavy metal, but he also likes jazz,” Connor told her, the first thing coming to mind being his music taste.

“That’s some variety,” She chuckled.

“Yes, it is,” Connor agreed. “He also has… questionable fashion taste.”

“How do you mean?” She countered, and Connor gave it some thought, making sure to put it lightly.

“Well… He often wears things that would normally be considered tacky,” Connor said carefully. “But in all honesty, I think it suits him really well.” He finished his words smiling to himself as he thought about Hank and his obnoxious shirts that he wore under his coat.

“He must be something special, huh?” Leila was smirking at him knowingly.

“I mean… yeah…” Connor trailed off, grinning uncontrollably wide.

“Maybe get him one of those ugly shirts he loves,” Leila suggested with a shrug as they pulled into the mall parking lot.

“Yeah, maybe I will,” Connor said thoughtfully, although he hardly had any other ideas so he figured it’d probably be best to take her suggestion. “Thank you, Leila.”

“Of course, you have a good holiday, Connor,” She said with a smile. “Go woo your man!” She added with a wink, and Connor giggled as he left the car.

He grabbed himself a pretzel from the food court and rushed past all the people into a clothing store he didn’t catch the name of. He only had about ten minutes left of his break, and he knew he wouldn’t make it back in time, so he stopped where it was less crowded and took out his phone. He smiled at his wallpaper, which was a picture of Hank. Hank had taken the picture to show off his trimmed hair, piercings on display. Connor remembered laughing fondly at Hank’s pride that he didn’t mess up his hair.

He didn’t even bother to text- he usually didn’t- and went straight to calling Jerry 2.

“Connor?” Jerry’s cheery voice came through the line, and Connor could hear the familiar bustle in the background of the call.

“Hi, Jerry,” Connor said breathlessly. “Is there any way I can get more time for my lunch break? I still need to get Hank’s present and the traffic is really bad…” Connor trailed off.

“Hmm…” Jerry seemed to think about it for a moment. “You should be okay, although you know it’s busy today, so try to come back as soon as you can. I’ll cover you.”

“Ah- thank you- I’ll be quick, I promise,” Connor said gratefully and wasted no more time, hanging up the phone and beginning to look around the clothing store. Some cologne caught his eye, but he realized he liked the cologne Hank already used far too much to buy him another.

He found the men’s department and looked around, and a particularly vibrant shirt caught his eye. It certainly looked like something Hank would wear and it was almost comparable to a Hawaiian shirt, although it had long sleeves and the colors didn’t quite compare. Connor gave it a long look before grabbing it, knowing he had very little time to decide. He brought it to self check-out and hurried out of the mall, gripping the bag the shirt was in tightly as he wound his way around people in just as much of a rush as he was.

He made it out of the mall and clambered into a taxi, although the driver was comparably less friendly. The drive seemed to take years, and he was extremely grateful to be out of the awkward silence of the car and back at work, shedding his layers when he entered. He thanked Jerry 2 for covering for him and hurried back to work, and the rest of the day passed surprisingly quickly. It was extremely busy, as it normally was during the cold weather. Connor was grateful for the business though. Christmas was always rough for money for all of the employees, and no one really complained despite having to run around frantically all day.

Connor wasn’t too upset to leave the chaos when his shift was over though, and he took another taxi to the building where he held his yoga lessons. He finally calmed down when he was in the building, not having to worry about being late anymore, and he hung up his jacket on the coatrack he had in his room while he waited.

He dawdled on his phone until he heard a knock at the door and his heart immediately sped up, knowing who it was before his brain did. He looked at the clock on his phone. Only Hank came this early, and sure enough, the door opened to reveal Hank, covered in a thin layer of snow. Hank waved and Connor smiled at him. "Hi, Hank," Connor said giddily. 

"Hey, Connor," Hank returned and hung up his coat. Hank laid out his mat and faced Connor, looking almost shy.

They talked for a while, Connor learning more small things about Hank, and Hank learning more small things about Connor. They didn't talk about Connor's kiss on the cheek this morning, and Connor was somewhat glad they avoided talking about it. He wouldn't really know how to explain it.

"What did you want to be when you were younger?" Connor had asked, laying on his yoga mat and staring at the barren, plaster ceiling. Hank was sitting next to him on the floor and he had shed his many layers of clothing, in the clothes they usually wore for yoga.

"Fireman," Hank had said reflectively after a bit of thinking.

"Hm, wanted to be everyone’s hero?" Connor hummed, although it wasn’t really a question. "I wanted to be a track star."

"What happened?"

"Never even had the time to join the track team," Connor confessed. "Plus, my parents were a lot more interested in how I did academically. Not like that matters now, anyway."

“Why doesn’t it matter?” Hank asked, tone concerned.

“They kicked me out when I was seventeen,” Connor mumbled.

“Ah. Fuck em, though, I bet you can probably run like hell anyway," Hank remarked.

"I suppose," Connor said, giving it little thought. There was a knock on the door. Simon waved from the doorway. Chloe was behind him with her hair in its usual lazy bun, as it always was for the yoga classes. People slowly filled the classroom.


	18. Partner Yoga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank gets to see a more dominant side of Connor when the two partake in partner yoga.

Hank returned to his own mat, watching as all 5 members sat down on their own mats, Connor included. He sat down as well, waiting for instruction. Connor, who was sitting in the front on his beige-colored mat, opened his mouth to speak.

"Today, we'll be trying partner yoga. I will be choosing the partners." Connor announced. Hank heard a stifled laugh from behind him.

"Chloe, you will be with Simon." Connor paired the two. Chloe shrugged as Simon brought his mat over to her.

"Josh, you will be paired with Rupert." Connor moved his finger from Josh to Rupert, and Josh smiled, picked up his mat, and brought it over to where Rupert sat.

"Hank will work with me. You may begin." Connor finished. Hank smiled and brought his mat over to the front of the classroom. The Promethean board was on now, with a partner yoga routine pictured. Both Hank and Connor were looking at it. Hank turned to Connor.

"I'm assuming I'm on the bottom?" Hank asked. Connor blushed.

"Y-yes, that'd probably be the most reasonable approach..." Connor got quieter, face reddened. Hank caught on and rolled his eyes.

"Puh-lease, you couldn't if you tried," Hank teased and Connor gave him a look that scared him more than he would ever admit. His brown eyes had darkened and he looked Hank up and down almost _hungrily_. Hank swallowed thickly and his face flushed red.

“Is that a challenge?” Connor arched a brow, and Hank could swear he died right there. Connor’s tone… Something about it made Hank’s heart rate go haywire, and Hank cleared his throat, though no words came out when he tried to speak.

“That’s what I thought,” Connor remarked with a smirk, and just as fast as he had become dominant, his face softened to its normal state and his smirk turned into a smile. “Shall we begin?”

Hank nodded, face still embarrassingly red. He sat down on the mat as his very attractive yoga instructor joined him. They linked hands, and Connor slowly explained the first steps. Hank's hands felt sweaty already, his fingers locked with Connor's, It wasn't horrible, but being this close made Hank's heart race.

Connor instructed the stronger partner to slowly lean onto their backs, and in doing so, place the palms of their feet onto their partner's thighs. Hank cooperated, already feeling the burning heat in his gut as he leaned back at a forty-five-degree angle, and his knees bent. Hank had once been muscular but now was evidently way less fit. He was getting better, though, with this fucking yoga. It was hard to look Connor in the face while doing this, maybe because of the incident this morning, or just the fact that he was painfully in love with the fucking twink. Hank tried his best to keep himself from falling backward, as Connor continued to explain the next steps.

Connor explained the lighter partner had to push back on the mat with their feet as their stronger partner pushes up with their own feet. Then finally, simultaneously together, they stretched their arms and legs out. Hank already had a million thoughts running through his mind, but a few simple actions that totally aren't too complicated shouldn't throw him off, right? Hank followed Connor's instructions, pushing back on the brunette's legs as Connor pushed back on the mat. They outstretched their arms, just like Connor had said to do, and they’d just about succeeded.

Hank was either a lot stronger than he actually thought he was, or Connor was just a lot lighter than he had originally thought. Hank supposed it made sense as he looked Connor up and down, his light blue shirt past his shoulder, black shorts, and tights hugging his curves.

Now that they have reached this point, Hank's own opinion changed, that one of Connor's best angles was from above as well, his curly brown hair falling over his flushed features. Connor looked down at Hank, burning heat in his eyes that Hank melted in. While maintaining the position, Connor turned back to the class. Connor explained something about the benefits of being close with a partner, some spiritual connection or something, yadda yadda, Hank was more caught up in the way Connor looked.

Hank, having held this position for... longer than they were probably supposed to, couldn't any longer and his body gave out. Connor fell on top of him, his words cut off with a yelp as he fell on top of Hank. Simon, who looked like he was about to fucking explode, did explode. Just... with laughter, not actually explode. Connor stayed how he was, leaning over Hank after catching himself on his elbows. He stared into Hank’s eyes, and Hank felt his heart pounding so hard he could swear it was going to leave his body. Connor gave one drag of his eyes across Hank’s body before climbing off of him. Simon finally managed to calm down, but every time he glanced at Connor glaring at him he started giggling again.

Connor continued to explain, though slightly stuttering through it, and the class did more positions, Hank getting sorer by the fucking second. He swore that any moment now his entire body would just go boneless and Connor would fall on top of him again, but it never did and he managed to get through the 8 positions they were doing that class. Most were less awkward than others, one where Hank was hunched over, with his head in his knees and his legs straight out, and Connor laying against his back with his own, and head resting on the back of his neck. 

"Fuckin' ow, Connor..." Hank complained, sitting up on the mat he had brought over to Connor and feeling something in his body protest. Connor gave him the sweetest fucking smile and he seriously thought he melted for a second. Fucking cute bastard. "You're so lucky you’re pretty, Con." Hank groaned, words escaping before he could stop them.

"Pretty...?" He heard Connor whisper. Yes, pretty. He thought it but didn't say it, watching as the male in front of him now fussed over his messy brown hair.

Talking to Connor must have made the time pass by fast... Or it was the 8 positions of yoga. Probably the latter, but whatever it was, it was 6:00 and Connor dismissed everyone, people filing out of the room and waving goodbye and wishing each other Merry Christmases. As Hank smiled at Connor and got up to leave, he suddenly felt really really happy. Stupidly happy. He pulled on his coat, gloves, and his scarf and gave Connor a sheepish wave. The dork waved back, smiling back at Hank.

He left the building in a very good mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry for missing a day yesterday, i've been very overwhelmed lately but it should be back on track tomorrow! here's a chapter to make up for my absence :,)


	19. What Could Have Been So Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank gets home and finds an old USB in his closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey trigger warning for this chapter & briefly the next one, hank is playing russian roulette, nothing too heavy but i feel like i should warn you guys regardless

Hank arrived home, still in a good mood as he was when he left the yoga lessons. He greeted Sumo when he opened the front door and gave the dog attention, scratching behind Sumo’s ears like he knew the big lump loved. Sumo flopped on his side. Hank rolled his eyes, knowing what the stupid dog wanted and rubbed the fluffy underside of the dog. He gave Sumo’s belly a farewell pat as he got up to get something to eat.

Hank spent at least a couple of minutes staring into the refrigerator and eventually decided on leftover potato salad. He put some of it in a bowl before closing the container back up and putting it back into the refrigerator. He sat at his table and ate, ignoring the begging dog. The lump wasn’t hungry. He knew that for a fact. After all, he had just watched Sumo eat what was probably about half of the dog food in his dish. He finished and rinsed out the bowl in the sink. He leaned against the counter and observed his surroundings.

The scenery definitely changed. He still had Christmas decorations he had put in his own house. He looked around and his eyes rested on the Christmas tree. He hadn’t put up the decorations that Cole created, knowing how much it’d hurt to see those every day. They’d stayed in the box among more of Cole’s creations. He realized he was missing something, but he couldn’t figure out what it was, and that led him to the closet he had at the end of his hallway. He opened the closet door and sifted through old papers and even some family photos. Hank found the box filled with Christmas decorations. He dug through the box until he found what he now realized he’d been looking for. It was a handmade angel, crocheted together by his ex-wife. He stared at it wistfully in his palm for a moment before he set down the box of decorations onto a pile of more boxes, and before he had the chance to even slide close his closet door, the pile of boxes caved in on each other, with an outcome of a number of items falling out of them. Hank groaned and dropped to his knees to gather the things before Sumo ran in to start eating anything. 

Hank was mostly gathering things in handfuls and shoving them in boxes, deciding to go through them later. But something stood out, a small USB. He stared at it for a moment and picked it up and put it into his pocket. He knew it was probably old, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d put something on a USB, and he had no idea what box it fell out of. He picked up all the small things and situated the boxes in his closet so this time, they wouldn't fall over. Hank got up and winced, his back still aching from the yoga he’d done earlier.

Hank decided he would find out what's on the damn USB, plugging it carefully into his laptop at the table and waiting for it to download. He was sure it was some home family video he made back- a long time ago. It took a second for it to install, and he honest-to-god had no idea what could be on it. He knew he and his ex-wife had made some home videos back in their prime, and he  _ knew _ he was too sober to watch that. He got up out of the chair and exhaled, heading to the kitchen to get his bottle out of Black Lamb scotch whiskey. He knew he’d been smart to keep the one bottle.

The video downloaded, there was no title, only a date. 12/25/32. Hank swallowed hard as he started it. 

It was Cole’s third Christmas. Hank thought that it would be a great idea to document Cole’s first steps, and him trying new foods, and his first teeth growing in, his first time coming home. Just the early stages of Cole’s life, knowing it would be great for once Cole was older, he could sit down with his own family and watch. Hank let out a sharp breath, shaking and squeezing the neck of his bottle as tears pricked his eyes.

Cole never did get to see these videos. Cole never got to be older.

Instead of ripping the USB right out of the computer, Hank sat there, hopelessly watching Cole, a small three-year-old, play with the new toy trucks that Hank had bought him for Christmas that year. Hank could feel his heart sink into his stomach and he swallowed thickly. Cole was smiling and sitting between his mother’s legs. The toddler was giggling as he smashed the trucks into each other playfully and Mary’s laugh could be heard, though she wasn’t entirely in the frame, Hank could remember her face painfully well. Mary was very beautiful, Hank had always thought that. Past Hank readjusted the camera to get both of them in the shot. Mary smiled and laughed along with her son, and looked up into the camera. At Past Hank, Hank assumed.

Hank had already been taking long swigs from the bottle, so was certainly intoxicated, to say the least. Hank’s mind was racing despite the fuzzy warmth from the alcohol. His mind traveled to darker places, remembering things that- if Hank were sober- he would have never wanted to think about again. He remembered painfully, not just the accident, but the aftermath. The way Mary had looked at him with such betrayal and grief in her eyes. The unspoken words that were between them, that Hank had fucked up. And then he was back there.

The car sliding on the ice, the car flipping over.

Cole screaming at the top of his lungs, his tiny lungs, crashing of glass and steel. 

The ambulance, the surgeon, the rage, the-

Before Hank knew it, he already had his revolver in his left hand, His mostly empty-whiskey bottle in his right. And on the table laid his phone, on speaker, calling someone really important to him. Someone he really, really should not call in this state, and someone Hank would never want to see when he was drunk. 


	20. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor runs to save Hank. With little words, a lot is said.

Connor had been home for quite a while now, getting some last-minute wrapping done for Christmas, putting Hank’s gift in a light blue gift bag that matched the gruff man’s eyes. When his phone had gone off, his phone rang with a special tone. Some soft love song that was overplayed in 2016... ‘But I- Can’t- Help- Falling in loooveee, wiitthhhhh yooouuu...' ringing out. Connor practically hopped over his desk chair, almost tripped onto his carpet, and scrambled onto his bed. He looked down at his phone screen and frantically pressed the accept call button. 

“..Hank? Is everything alright?” Connor asked.

“Eeeey, Connor! I'm soo glad you picked up…!” Hank slurred, a tone that Connor had never heard before. He sounded, sad, like his voice was broken yet he sounded intoxicated, slurred. In the background Connor could hear a quiet click, he also could hear something else, a child and a woman’s voice, ..but he could also hear Hank’s voice. Among all of the noise, he could hear a whirring sound.

“Hank? What are you watching?” Connor spoke into the phone, now sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Cole and Mary…” Hank mumbled, a click and a whirl could be heard again.

“Who are they?” Connor asked, after a small moment of silence between the click and whirl. 

“My son, and ex-wife... “ He mumbled again. Click, a small curse that wasn't audible but sounded like a fuck, and Connor was stunned. 

“You have a son?” Connor asked. He was fine with it, he never had a problem with kids. Whiirrrrr.

“I did,” Hank croaked. Click.

Oh. So that was the baggage Hank was talking about. Whirring, clicking. _Wait. Don’t tell me…_

“Hank, what are you doing?” Connor strained, feeling a pit in his stomach.

“Russian roulette.”

Connor kept Hank talking. He threw on a jacket and scrambled for his car keys, only to look outside of his apartment and remember with a sinking feeling that his car was still in the shop. He threw on socks that didn’t fit him quite right and began to run.

It was a two-mile stretch. He knew the way from putting Hank’s address into Maps so many times on so many lonely nights where he seriously considered going to Hank at two in the morning. He could hear the sound of his own clothed feet hitting the cement, ignoring the bitter chill of Detroit winter. He recalled Hank remarking that he was probably a fast runner. It was actually true. Connor was almost tripping over his own feet.

"Where is Sumo?" Connor asked, trying to distract Hank. Connor turned a corner, though was still about one and a half miles away.

"Urr... I dunno... Lemme look," Hank said. Connor was so relieved that Hank was actually getting away from the gun that he almost stopped moving. Then, he heard a thud and a gunshot, and he let out a choked cry as he ran the fastest he had ever, almost tripping several times.

"Hank?!" He managed to get out of him, not stopping. Almost there. He was breathing hard, listening to nothing but the slap of his own footfalls against the cold sidewalk. His chest felt like it was getting tighter and his knees threatened to give out, but he kept running. 1,2, 1,2 1,2. One in front of the other. He was almost there, one more turn-

"The fuckin' gun fired. Scared the shit outta me." Hank grumbled. Connor stopped dead in his tracks for a moment but soon kept running seconds later.

"Con?" Hank almost sounded sober. Connor turned, practically wheezing for breath. His throat felt like it was on fire. He knew he couldn’t respond if he tried. He ignored one of Hank’s neighbors sitting on their porch eyeing him strangely and got to Hank's door. He tried the knob. Locked. No time. He looked to his right and saw a window. He did what any irrational person would do and hurtled himself right through it, wincing but recovering fast.

"The fuck?!" Connor could hear Hank, probably from the kitchen. He couldn't even force his legs up anymore. He looked down at his phone to find that the call had ended.

"Hank..." He choked out, his voice a lot quieter than he wanted it to be.

"What window even..." He heard Hank ask himself. Connor took all the energy and willpower he had left, shivering on the floor as the adrenaline wore off and the cold overcame him.

"HANK!" He yelled, hearing his own voice echo through the home. He tried to get up, but his knees buckled beneath him and he fell down again.

"Jesus fuck! Connor!" Hank called and hurried over to Connor, hardly wavering as he leant over the brunette who shuddered on the floor. Connor was trying to pry himself up with trembling arms. Hank helped Connor up, not seeming that stable himself.

"You... ran?" Hank asked, looking at the mess of a man in front of him right now. Connor's trembling body was practically limp in his arms. Hank embraced the weak brunette, who used what little strength he did have to hug Hank back.

"I... yes..." He managed to get out, his voice quiet. "Sorry... about... window..." He said through sharp breaths.

"Connor, I don't fuckin' care about the window!" Hank blurted out. Connor buried his face in Hank's shoulder and tried to hold him closer. "You fuckin ran here..." He mumbled, a lot quieter. He still seemed disbelieving. Connor lifted his head.

"I... had to..." Connor said, his voice catching in his throat as he slowed his breathing. "I needed to make sure... that you were alive... No matter what..."

Hank just held him tighter. "Connor..." He said gently, and he didn’t think he could say more even if he wanted to.

Their embrace lasted for what felt like hours, Connor felt tears prick his eyes as he softly sobbed into Hank’s shoulder. Hank rubbed his back up and down.

“It’s okay, Connor, I’m okay,” Hank mumbled soothingly. Connor let out a shuddering breath. He didn’t know what he would do without Hank, and even as he held Hank this close, the thought was terrifying. He tightened his grip.

“I’m not going anywhere, Connor,” Hank comforted him. Their heads rested on each other's shoulders. Connor’s hands gripped Hank’s torso, squeezing with every harsh breath that could be heard through Connor’s sobs. He tried to apologize but Hank only shushed him, telling him to be quiet as they shared the moment.

After a while, Connor lifted his head off Hank’s shoulder, and Hank pulled back slightly as well. They caught each others’ gaze, and Connor found himself leaning in just for a second. And maybe he was crazy, but he could swear that Hank looked like he was going to kiss him for a moment. He felt his heart pound in his chest and Hank was leaning closer, but instead of kissing his lips, Hank’s lips met Connor’s forehead. Connor exhaled quietly, and neither of them could pretend that was an accident. Neither of them wanted to.

Connor was unsure of what to do, and his gaze fell to the floor. In Detroit, the cold weather got down to the negatives, and Connor didn’t know if his weary limbs could handle the two-mile stretch. Sure he could do it, but it was freezing outside. Though he was warmed by Hank’s embrace, he shivered just remembering the unrelenting cold outside. He looked up at Hank before speaking.

“I should walk home... it wouldn't be that bad.” Connor didn't want to intrude or force himself into Hank’s home, whether he wanted to stay or not.

“You can take the couch if you’d like, I-I know it's fucking freezing out…” Hank’s speech was still a little slurred and stiff, but his tone was considerate and caring. “And I'm not exactly in the best st-state to drive.” Connor nodded with a small smile on his lips despite the situation.

“It.. isn't very comfortable-” Hank continued, “But unless you’d want to be smashed between Sumo and me in my bed…” Hank teased, still in his drunken state. Connor wouldn't of minded being wrapped up in blankets, with strong arms wrapped around him, and with his head resting on Hank’s chest. It sounded all too good to be true, but Connor knew better than to let himself get the chance to mess anything up.

“It-it’s fine, Hank,” Connor said, stuttering on his words. The thoughts of being pressed up against Hank, a warm embrace throughout the entire night, made Connor’s head spin.

“I'll get you some pillows, then,” Hank said, wanting to get Connor comfortable for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a total baby when it comes to angst so i hope this will suffice


	21. Dogs Break Tension, Apparently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank is just sitting in bed with the dog at the foot of it, wishing Connor was in bed with him, and by some fucking crazy odds, his wish is granted.

Hank was used to not having anyone in his bed by this point, other than his dog. Sumo had seemed to notice his loneliness when Mary left and had slept with him since. But he could hardly sleep knowing Connor was that close, not even in his room but still in his fucking house. It made Hank, to say the very least, extremely nervous. He had to ignore several thoughts, all stemming from the knowledge that Connor was right there. Hank could just walk out of his room into the living room… He killed the impulse. He was constantly shuffling in his bedsheets, unable to sleep.

He was trying to move yet again to get comfortable (it’d probably been about a couple of hours since he said goodnight to Connor,) when he heard light footsteps in the hallway. He shifted more quietly before going completely still. He heard a light knock on the door, and his eyes were completely transfixed on it. He could hardly see, with all lights off in his room, but he still kept his eyes on the crack in the door. He never closed his door in case Sumo wanted to eat, or do some other dog thing. He saw that someone, most likely Connor, was at the door. He got up, removing the covers from himself and ignoring the small noise of complaint from the dog, who was perfectly comfortable despite Hank’s almost constant shifting. Hank, being as exhausted as he was, leaned over to turn on his bedside lamp and hesitantly made his way around his bed to open his door. As he opened it for his friend, the door creaked and revealed an equally as sleepy, and disheveled brunette. It seemed that he had gotten the same amount of sleep Hank did: none. It was 4:36 in the morning, said Hank’s clock, meaning it’d been a couple of hours since Connor hurtled himself through the window.

“Connor, wha…?” Hank trailed off, trying not to eye-fuck Connor.

“Sorry, Hank. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just couldn’t sleep, and-”

“It’s fine, Connor, don’t apologize,” Hank said exasperatedly, rubbing the back of his neck like the awkward son of a bitch he was.

“Uh…” Connor mumbled, looking down at his black socks. Those socks were obviously not Connor’s size. They were far too big, and they almost went up to his knees. It was… cute. Like the rest of Connor.

“And?” Hank asked, waiting for Connor to finish his sentence.

"Hm?” Connor had clearly zoned out, only just now looking back up at Hank.

“You just couldn’t sleep, and…?” Hank pressed on.

“Oh.” Connor squeaked. Hank could hardly notice the slight reddening of Connor’s face in the dim room. “I… I’ve wanted to ask for the past hour- uh…” Connor was obviously blushing, his hands twitching. He probably had to avoid the instinct to cover his red face.

“Spit it out, Con.” Hank insisted, getting exasperated at the fact that Connor was probably getting embarrassed over something stupid.

“Do you mind me coming in and… um… laying down with you?” Connor managed to get out. Hank just stared at him, lips parted slightly.

“Are you asking to sleep with me?” Hank asked, raising a brow. Connor made an actual fucking squeaking noise before covering his mouth. Why was this fucker the physical embodiment of the word ‘cute’?! That just… cannot be legal.

“I- um, I just meant…” Connor, evidently, could barely get the words out.

“I’m joking, Connor,” Hank rolled his eyes. Connor blinked a couple of times and resumed staring at the floor, rubbing his hands together with a need to fidget. He couldn’t seem to meet Hank’s eyes, and even in the dim lighting, Hank could still see the color in his face.

“I know what you mean, Con,” Hank said, reassuringly. “And, yeah it’s alright if you want to. Come on, I’m positive Sumo wouldn’t mind.” Connor’s face lit up hearing the dog’s name. Hank also heard shuffling from the bed, and he assumed that the dog heard his own name as well.

Hank awkwardly let Connor in, leaving the door open behind the brunette, just a crack so Sumo could leave, if he wanted to go do whatever the fuck dogs do in the middle of the night. Hank walked across the carpet, trying not to look at Connor’s legs. The carpet was much, much more interesting than Connor’s beautifully sculpted legs, occasional freckles leading up to his pale thighs… Fuck, he was looking. He looked back at the carpet and walked around to lay on the left side of the bed. He gestured to the other side of the bed awkwardly. Connor blushed slightly and got into the bed, not moving closer. Hank wanted him to, but he knew Connor probably wouldn’t get the idea unless he said it bluntly, and there was no fucking way he was doing that. They sat there for what was probably a minute but felt like hours.

The dog, who must have somehow sensed the tension, climbed up from his spot at the foot of the bed. He got between the two of them, squeezing through and licking Connor’s face. Connor giggled, and Hank swore that was the most adorable thing. Even though he’d heard it before… God. He was fucking smitten with Connor. Hank laughed too because even Connor’s laugh was contagious. Sumo went back to lay down back at the foot of the bed, and Connor was laying down now. Hank felt awkward still half sitting-up, adjusting himself so he didn’t look like an idiot. Connor was a lot closer now, Hank noticed. He said nothing, though, silently relishing the closeness of Connor. This was honestly what he had wanted all night, so he definitely was not complaining.

He turned on his side and faced Connor, smiling. Connor was smiling at him too now, his soft smile almost too much for Hank to handle.

“Thanks,” Connor said gently. Very vague of him to say. That could honestly be for a number of things, but Hank took it. He just nodded, a half-assed attempt at a ‘you’re welcome’ because he was getting very tired now that he was finally comfortable. He brushed a hair away from Connor’s eyes and withdrew his hand, shutting his eyes and falling asleep smiling.


	22. What Are You Hiding, Old Man?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor wakes up with Hank in his arms. Hank is hiding something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this is late! i totally blanked on posting a chapter tonight i've been so busy, i apologize for the delay!

Connor's eyes fluttered open as he awoke from his unbelievably comfortable night of sleep. It was the best sleep he had in weeks. The room was lit by pale sunlight shining through the curtains. The room was chilly, and his skin was cold, except for around his hips, chest, and his face, and... Connor took in his surroundings, looking up, he saw the brown, cushioned headboard. Then he looked to the side and saw the strangely patterned wallpaper. He barely recognized where he was until he focused on the breathing coming from the man he was cradling. Connor brought his head back to its side-lying position and looked down at the grey-bearded man.

Connor snapped awake when he realized that he was holding Hank with the older man's head resting against his chest. He remembered last night and realized he could feel his eyes ache from all the tears he had shed. Connor's heart raced despite him remaining unmoving, but he did his best to calm down. He couldn't believe that Hank had let him sleep with him. He was so kind to him, and he looked so content in his sleep. Connor found he enjoyed watching the peaceful rising and falling of his chest, and his eyes darted to his parted lips. He probably stared too long and was suddenly grateful Hank was asleep.

Connor tried to sit up slowly, not enough to wake up Hank, but enough to check the time on the outdated alarm clock over Hank’s shoulder. It was 8:45 A.M., and Connor realized he should probably be getting ready for the Christmas party that the cafe was hosting that day. He softly shook Hank, leaning over him and speaking quietly.

"Hank, it's time to wake up... Come onnn,” Connor said softly, only receiving a grumble and Hank turning onto his back. Connor put his hand on his chest, tapping him gently.

"Hank, wake up, we need to get ready!" Connor said a little louder than before, and Hank stirred.

"Hmm? Ready for what?" Hank grumbled, rubbing his eyes. Connor noticed the slight flush to his cheeks and the widening of his eyes when Hank realized that Connor was in bed with him. Hank seemed to recall everything that happened, his cheeks dusted pink. Connor smiled fondly.

"It's Christmas, Hank." He reminded the man, who was sitting up now, obviously with acquiescence.

"Oh," Was all he got in reply. Connor didn't even notice himself frowning slightly until Hank looked over at him again, his back against the headboard of the bed. "What are you lookin' at me like that for?" He asked with a brow raised. Connor blinked with his head in his hands.

"Like what?"

"Like you're upset at me?" Hank ended it like it was a question. Connor shook his head.

"I am not upset at you, Hank," He said because he wasn't. "Although..." He trailed off, tapping his chin with a tiny smile.

"Oh, great," Hank huffed, his arms crossed over his chest. It was obvious that the man was being sarcastic with his reaction.

"I would like you to celebrate Christmas at the cafe. We are having a small celebration there," Connor requested, hoping for Hank to agree to come. 

"It'll be like when we decorated the cafe. Same people." He finished, looking up at Hank pleadingly.

"Fine, fine..." Hank agreed with obvious hesitance. "Fuckin' puppy eyes..." He grumbled, getting up and stretching. Connor glanced over at him and saw the male's shirt lift up. Connor’s eyes flitted to the exposed skin, fondly gazing at the stretch marks on the older man’s waist. And he smiled to himself until he realized Hank's shirt had fallen back down about a minute ago and he was staring at Hank with a stupid smile on his face. "What?" He asked, looking at Connor with a raised eyebrow. Connor felt his cheeks heat up slightly.

"Ah- sorry," Connor said and looked away. He looked down at himself and realized that he was still just wearing shorts, a shirt, and his jacket was abandoned somewhere in Hank’s house. "Uh, Hank? Do you think you have any clothes that could fit me?"

"Clothes that could _fit_ you? Hell no." Hank said with a small laugh.

"Then can we, um- can we stop at my place?" He asked, not really wanting to show up in shorts in the winter. He didn't even know how he ran that far in the freezing cold last night. Hank nodded, to Connor's relief.

Connor got up, wishing that he had brought toothpaste. Or anything, really, if he had known he was going to have a damn sleepover at Hank's house. His morning breath wasn't too bad, so he figured he could wait until he got to his place to quickly brush his teeth. And he did, waiting for Hank to get dressed (looking away, although he found that he didn't want to.) He waited in the living room as Hank went to “grab a couple of things,” things which he hid from Connor. Not that Connor said anything, though, as he buzzed with anticipation for the Christmas party.

When they left for Hank’s car, Hank put something in the backseat, but it was obvious he was trying to hide it from Connor, and Connor didn’t want to be rude, so he respected Hank’s privacy and looked out the passenger side window at the snow falling outside. Hank didn't even have to put Connor’s address in the GPS, which Connor found to be a little strange. He didn't say anything, though, and got out of the car when they arrived.

"You can come with, Hank," He said through chattering teeth when Hank was obviously hesitant to even leave his car. He did when Connor said this, though, looking a bit more at ease when he walked to with Connor to his apartment, putting his jacket on Connor awkwardly when he noticed Connor shivering in the snow. Connor gave him a small smile. They walked in together, and Connor hesitantly gave Hank back his jacket.


	23. Merry Christmas and By The Way, I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor exchange Christmas gifts and say some things that need to be said.

It wasn't much, Connor's apartment, but it was what he had. Hank, for whatever reason, smiled at his apartment. Connor got the fish food and fed his dwarf gourami fish, Dewey.

"A fish, huh?" Hank remarked, behind Connor still wearing a smile. Connor tilted his head.

"Yes. I like fish, too." Connor informed him with a matter-of-fact tone. Hank just nodded, holding his hands up in mock defense as he flashed a smile. Connor glanced down at the man’s slight tooth gap with fondness. It was one of many things he loved about Hank. His eyes went to his lips, and he shut that down right then and there before it could get any worse.

"Uh, you can wait out here, I’ll go get dressed,” Connor told him, and as he got up he found that he was glad to escape the tension that was between them. Hank just nodded and sat on his couch. Connor remembered how many sleepless nights he'd spend on that couch thinking about Hank. And now Hank was sitting on that couch.

Hm.

He walked into his bedroom, not bothering to lock the door because he honestly didn't take Hank for a creep. He didn't do too much, pulling out an old graphic t-shirt and tucking it into black skinny jeans. He walked out of his bedroom after brushing his teeth, grateful for the minty taste and not the taste of morning breath. He had jackets he could wear, but…

"Hank?" He found himself speaking before he could stop it.

"Yeah, Con?" Hank questioned, and Connor knew he had to ask now.

"Can I wear your hoodie?" He asked, knowing that the hoodie he wanted to wear was sitting in the back seat on top of... something. Connor didn't know what, it was something that Hank hid when he took it out of the house. Connor didn't want to question it, as it was probably some sort of surprise present. The idea that Hank got him a Christmas gift too made a surge of warmth spread throughout his chest.

"Can you- Uh, I guess, hold on-" Hank's face had reddened slightly, certainly not for the first time that day. Connor smiled at that and held on, sitting on the couch after Hank had left the apartment, presumably to get the hoodie.

Connor tentatively sat on his sofa. He felt that today was going to be a very good day. He smiled to himself and reflected on the past months with Hank. He wondered if now would be the right time. He’d been taking it slow, and Hank had been slowly letting him in. He figured Hank wouldn’t let it impact their friendship, even if he didn’t reciprocate Connor’s feelings. He kept it in mind and gave Hank a small wave when he walked in. The smile had taken itself off of his face now, but it quickly made its way back to his features when Hank walked in holding the hoodie, and something else behind his back.

"Alright, uh..." Hank was clearly embarrassed. What's embarrassing about a hoodie? Was it what was behind the older male's back that was embarrassing him? Connor raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you, Hank," Connor said, taking the hoodie from him and watching the man's instinctive reaction to hold what he had hidden behind his back further away from Connor, moving it to the right. When Hank did that, though, Connor got a glimpse of something blue. He smiled. He liked blue. "What is that, Hank?" He asked, pointing to Hank's arms behind his back holding something.

"It's, uh- Shit," Hank said. Well, that wasn't helpful at all.

"It's shit?" Connor inquired, though he was smirking. Hank rolled his eyes.

"No, Connor, stop being a smartass," He huffed. Connor waited for him to elaborate, but he never did, so Connor did a puppy-like head tilt. Mainly because he knew of the effect it had on Hank.

"So what is it, then, _Lieutenant_?" Connor knew by Hank's reaction that, despite what he had said months ago when they had just met, Hank really liked the way he said 'lieutenant.' He was very observant, after all, and noticed the way his breath hitched every time without fail.

"Fuck you," Hank muttered, although it was barely audible. _Please do_ , said a perverted voice in Connor's head. He silenced it, though it took willpower, and he found himself confused by his desires. He never cared about anything romantic, let alone sexual. He hadn't even had his first kiss yet. He gave his full attention to Hank when the man opened his mouth to speak.

"I, uh, got you something. For Christmas." Connor waited, and Hank pulled out a bouquet of blue flowers. All different shades and shapes of flowers and Connor’s mouth fell open in awe.

"They’re beautiful…” Connor trailed off, a dopey smile making its way on his face. Hank looked away sheepishly as Connor took the arrangement into his hands.

“Thank you, Hank!” He chirped, looking from the beautiful flowers to Hank. "Need to put these in a vase..." He murmured as he quickly shuffled away to put the flowers in a vase, as he said he would. He carefully placed them in the vase he had filled with water and put them on his coffee table. He smiled down at them and turned to Hank.

“I got you something too,” He said, suddenly feeling shy as he faced the older man. He felt stupid. Hank got him flowers and he got him… a shirt.

“Wh… You did?” Hank seemed stunned, and this helped with Connor’s confidence enough to get the brunette on his feet and going to grab the bag he had under his cheap Christmas tree.

“Yes, Hank, I did,” Connor said, and he was grinning. He held out the bag to Hank, who grabbed it, a look of surprise still on his face as he carefully took out the tissue paper from the bag and set it on the coffee table. Connor watched his face, attempting to gauge his reaction, and felt a surge of relief as Hank’s face broke into a smile. He pulled out the shirt and laughed, and Connor thought for a moment he had misinterpreted, his face falling slightly.

“I fucking love it, Connor,” Hank blurted out, and Connor beamed.

“Really?” He asked and all the worries he had about his gift seemed to disappear.

“This is my favorite shirt now,” Hank said, blue eyes sparkling. Connor let out a relieved laugh.

“Should I wear this instead?” Hank looked it up and down, and it wasn’t particularly wintery, but it would work. Connor nodded eagerly, and Hank rolled his eyes.

“I’ll just… Uh, where’s the bathroom?” Hank looked around Connor’s apartment, and Connor felt embarrassed that he’d forgotten that his apartment is foreign to Hank.

“Uh, it’s down the hall there,” Connor said, pointing to one of the doors in the hallway. Hank nodded and took the shirt to the bathroom down the hall. Connor watched him disappear and felt his heart racing even without Hank in the room. He was heavily considering it now, and before he could make up his mind, Hank walked out of his bathroom holding his other shirt. He looked away bashfully. Hank had pulled his hair back and when he smiled at Connor, Connor thought his soul left his body at this point.

“You look very handsome,” Connor said quietly, looking Hank up and down. If not for the cold, he’d probably be sweating.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Hank shot back at him, but Connor could tell that Hank took the compliment, visibly becoming more confident. Connor shifted where he sat on the sofa and his hand messed with the hem of Hank’s hoodie, watching Hank make his way over to the sofa. Hank laid his shirt over the top of the couch and sat next to Connor, and their closeness made Connor dizzy.

“You seem distracted,” Hank looked at him strangely, and Connor stayed evading his eyes. He said nothing, fearing he wouldn’t be able to control his impulses to say something he might regret.

“Talk to me, Con,” Hank pressed on, and Connor relented.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Connor whispered, and it was hardly a whisper. He could hear Hank’s breath catch in his throat.

“You won’t,” Hank insisted, and Connor exhaled.

“Do you promise?” Connor asked softly, and Hank nodded, ruffling Connor’s already messy brown hair.

“Of course, Connor,” Hank promised. Connor met his eyes, and his eyes flitted down to the older man’s lips before he forced his gaze back into Hank’s pale blue eyes, which searched his for some sort of idea of what Connor wanted to say. Knowing Hank, police lieutenant and all, Connor was probably already figured out, but Hank’s face remained painfully neutral.

“I… fuck,” Connor scrunched his eyes shut and held his head in his hands, visibly stressed. Hank was taken aback; it was the first time he’d ever heard Connor swear.

“You don’t have to say it, ya know,” Hank told him, and as much as Connor appreciated Hank caring about his comfort, he knew he needed to. Before the moment was gone.

“No, I do- It’s just- I, um, like you a lot,” Connor spoke quickly, and Hank could hardly make out what he was saying, his lithe hands trembling as he rubbed them together. Hank put his hands over Connor’s.

“Like me like how?” Hank asked, and Connor looked up to see his face was unreadable. He huffed in frustration, but his hands trembled less under Hank’s.

“Like…” Connor trailed off. He knew the words, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of them regardless. He went for something safer, his eyes grazing over Hank’s lips again as he attempted to read the lieutenant.

“Like romantically,” Connor said it quietly, feeling a lump in his throat as he prepared for the worst. Hank just stared at him, eyes wide, shock visible on his face. The silence seemed to stretch for miles, and Connor’s eyes watered without his permission.

“Please say something, Hank,” He croaked weakly. Hank blinked at him, a smile forcing its way onto his face.

“Shit- uh- yeah,” Hank, ever helpful, sputtered. “I mean- I like you too- fuck,” Hank’s face was red and he stared at the floor for a moment before looking back up at Connor. He seemed to be searching, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitance, but Connor was all in. Connor laced their fingers together, something Hank found reassuring.

“What would that make us, then?” Connor asked although he caught himself quickly. “That is, if you want to put a label on this, I don’t want to force you to do anything.”

“Nah, I’ve- I’ve thought about it, I think… lovers would fit. Boyfriend feels too childish, ya know?” Hank cut off his rambling, and it didn’t go unnoticed that Hank had said he’d thought about it.

“Lovers it is, then,” Connor agreed, and he kissed Hank’s cheek, feeling his heart swell.

“Yeah,” Hank said, and he seemed out of it. When Connor was about to ask, he spoke again. “This is going to sound really fucking stupid, but am I dreaming?”

“No, Hank, I’m real,” Connor said with a quiet laugh, squeezing Hank’s hand. Hank let out a relieved sigh.

“Okay, good,” Hank said, and Connor peered at him.

“You’ve dreamt about this before?” Connor asked, smirking. Hank blushed, although it was subtle enough that if Connor wasn’t looking for it, he might not have noticed it.

“Among other things, yeah,” Hank said, and Connor hummed in acknowledgment. Connor could see a brief moment of fear in Hank’s face, as though he had said too much, and then Connor replayed what he said in his mind. _Other things?_

"Should we go, then?" Connor asked, not letting himself think about it too much, and Hank nodded. Connor was so unbelievably happy. He’d often wondered if he was fucking himself over getting his hopes up the way he did with Hank, and it was something he’d never truly been able to brush off until just then. Hank liked him too. And that... That was an amazing feeling. Connor brushed a piece of hair that had fallen into Hank’s face behind his ear gently, enjoying the way Hank leaned into his touch lightly. He let his hand fall, and kept the other one connected with Hank’s, despite the slight clamminess that had developed. 

"Yeah. Let's go." Hank said, and the two left Connor’s apartment hand-in-hand with stupid smiles on their faces.


	24. Simon Says

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While at the Christmas party with Connor at Jerrys' Cafe, Hank takes Simon's advice.

Hank couldn’t believe his luck. Despite Connor’s confirmation that he was, in fact, not dreaming, Hank still found it hard to believe that Connor had reciprocated his feelings. He smiled to himself, already able to imagine his therapist’s reaction, something along the lines of “told you so.”

Hank had been idly driving, lost in his own head when he snapped back into reality fully to the sound of Connor tapping his fingers with no rhythm, his leg bouncing. Hank took his free hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel and grabbed hold of Connor’s, giving a reassuring squeeze. He could hear Connor exhale and he dared to turn to the brunette for a moment. Connor’s hair fell in his face ungracefully, and Hank found it extremely endearing.

He brought his eyes back the road with a struggle and they pulled into the parking lot for the cafe. Hank parked his car in the back as Connor instructed, and they both sat in the car for a moment, neither making the move to get out of the car. Connor’s hand twitched in Hank’s grasp, and Hank looked over at him. A wave of sympathy washed over him when he saw Connor’s expression filled with worry.

“It’s gonna be fine, Con,” Hank comforted. He rubbed his thumb along the back of Connor’s hand once before letting go of his hand and going to get out of the car. Connor followed suit, and to Hank’s relief, he looked calmer. Hank found he really liked the way Connor looked in his hoodie, and Connor still managed to look nice even though the hoodie didn’t quite fit him correctly. Connor gave him a shy smile and grabbed for his hand, and laced their fingers together. Hank felt a surge of affection for Connor and he brought Connor’s hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. Connor bit his lip and looked away, visibly repressing a smile as he opened the back door to the cafe. Hank tore his eyes from his lips with effort and looked around the cafe instead.

Inside was bustling with people, but none of them were new faces, to Hank’s relief. Connor had promised him that earlier that morning, too, and Hank was grateful he didn’t have to go through the effort of meeting any more new people. Jerry 1 was the first to notice their presence and he gave a friendly wave before his gaze dropped to Hank and Connor’s joined hands. He gave a knowing smile and walked off, carrying a plate of some desert Hank couldn’t make out in Ralph’s direction.

Next to greet them was Markus and Simon, walking closely together. Hank had only seen Markus a few times but had luckily met him one morning while he was talking to Simon, and Simon had introduced Markus as his boyfriend. Hank had hardly been surprised.

“Hello, Connor, Hank,” Markus greeted, and Simon smiled and waved. Simon looked the two up and down and his mouth opened slightly, looking at Connor in shock before grinning at him devilishly.

“Finally,” Simon said, sounding slightly exasperated. Hank looked over at Connor in confusion but was only met with more questions when Connor groaned, grinning despite himself. Markus and Hank exchanged a look, and Hank felt that even Markus knew so much more than he did.

“Connor!” Came a voice from across the cafe, and Hank recognized Kara and Luther waving him over. Connor sighed and turned to Hank, squeezing his hand and giving him a small smile before going over to the two. This left Hank standing next to Simon, Markus having left to go talk to Josh and North at one of the tables in the main area.

“He’s something, isn’t he?” Simon said bemusedly, watching Connor from across the cafe as he tried Kara’s homemade muffins. Hank followed Simon’s gaze and watched Connor with a fond smile.

“Yeah… Somethin’ is one way to put it,” Hank sighed, and it wasn’t hard to tell that he was smitten with the brunette. Connor beamed at Kara and Luther, and Hank could practically hear him complimenting the muffin from across the cafe.

“He really likes you, you know,” Simon said quietly, giving Hank a look that was almost intimidating. Hank shifted where he stood in the back of the cafe.

“What do you mean?” Hank asked cautiously.

“Just that… you know, he’s never even had a relationship before,” Simon told him, and Hank now understood that Simon was just looking out for Connor. “I don’t want him to get hurt, he’s… fragile.”

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting him, Simon,” Hank told him honestly, and he felt a wave of appreciation for Simon. He was glad Connor had someone like this.

“I know…” Simon exhaled, leaning against the wall and looking around, and his eyes fixed on the mistletoe, and he smirked suddenly. He turned to Hank, and Hank didn’t trust the expression on his face.

“You know, he’s never had his first kiss yet,” Simon told him. “And I’ve seen him eyeing that mistletoe since it was put up.” Hank understood where he was going with this, and nodded slowly.

“You think I should…” Hank trailed off, the words remaining unspoken. Simon nodded.

“It might not be my business to tell, but I’ve always been the one to suffer through him gushing about you and how he wants to kiss you,” Simon laughed. Hank blushed at the idea of it.

“Hm,” Hank hummed and recalled the countless occasions he’d fantasized about kissing Connor, among other things.

“Just some food for thought,” Simon winked at Hank with a knowing smile before heading to the table where Markus had gone, and Hank raised his eyebrows.

“Food for thought, huh,” Hank muttered to himself and laughed dryly. He recognized the Christmas song that played from the speakers- a timeless classic- ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You.’ Movement caught his eye and he saw Connor heading his way, and he couldn’t stop the smile on his face if he wanted to.

Connor, to Hank’s surprise, grabbed him by the arms and tugged him over, and they danced to the fast-paced Christmas song, ungracefully singing the words to each other. Simon gave Hank a thumbs up from where he was at a table eating cookies, and Hank rolled his eyes. He spun Connor, thoroughly enjoying the giggle it drew out of him. They slowed down as the song began to end, and Hank tugged Connor forward in an embrace, taking the opportunity to look around now that Connor wouldn’t notice. He’d successfully maneuvered them right underneath the mistletoe.

Connor broke away from the embrace, grinning at Hank, though his face quickly fell into a more serious expression when Hank didn’t mirror his smile. His heart was hammering through his chest, and he held up Connor’s face to face his own and leaned closer, his other hand tangling in Connor’s hair. Connor wrapped his arms around Hank’s waist and closed his eyes, and Hank took his opportunity to lean in and kiss Connor. Simon whooped from where he sat at the table, and Connor beat Hank to flipping off the blonde. Though it was an awkward kiss, likely due to Connor's lack of experience, Connor got the idea quickly enough. They pulled apart after a few seconds and shared wide smiles.

“We were under the mistletoe,” Hank shrugged with a grin, pointing up at the fake plant that hung above them. Connor lightly swatted Hank’s arm, huffing a sigh and kissing him once more, and it didn’t phase them this time when the friends that surrounded them clapped and cheered.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter coming up soon! it'll have timeskipped abt a month from now & it's the promised sexual content.


	25. Other Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor finds out the answer to a question that had been on his mind since they had gotten together.

The breaking point had been about a month into their relationship. Connor spent more of his nights at Hank’s than his apartment by this point. It was one of those nights- a Monday night, to be exact. Hank had come home cranky and brooding, although that was hardly an issue that night. Connor had shown up and offered to take Sumo for a walk with Hank. Hank, who could never say no to Connor’s puppy eyes, but combined with Sumo’s puppy eyes, Connor knew it wasn’t even a question.

Connor noticed how easy it was to walk next to Hank, and he relished in their closeness, holding his hand as they walked through Hank’s neighborhood.

By the time they had gotten back to the house, Connor had noticed a significant improvement in Hank’s mood. After Connor made the two of them dinner- despite Hank’s insisting that he could do it himself- the two retired to Hank’s sofa in the living room. Connor leaned his head on Hank’s shoulder as they watched television.

Or at least, that’s what Hank was doing.

Connor, however, was reflecting on the past months that he’d known Hank. There’d been so many occasions where Hank had made his heart swell, made him dizzy, some more innocent than others.

He remembered about a month since he’d met him, Hank had, though sarcastically, blown him a kiss on his way out of the cafe after the two had chatted throughout his visit. He remembered the way his heart twisted foreignly. 

At first, Jerry 1 had gotten onto him about how he’d stay talking to Hank throughout the older man’s entire time spent there, and at his request, Connor had stopped. Hank seemed to miss Connor’s company, his shoulders sagged noticeably as he sipped at the coffee Connor had picked out for him. But a couple of days after Jerry had told him to stop, he pulled him aside in the morning before they opened to tell him it was alright if he talked to Hank while he was there, and the knowing look on his face frustrated Connor. Connor was relieved though, to still be able to talk with Hank in the morning, and Hank had been extra sweet to him that day. Connor realized that day he wasn’t the only one who looked forward to their time spent together.

As Hank idly played with Connor’s hair, he couldn’t stop his mind from traveling to more dangerous territory. He then reflected on times less innocent, when his thoughts of Hank made him dizzy with arousal. Times where he had to stop whatever he had been trying to do and jerk himself off to whatever Hank had done that day to drive him crazy.

There was one yoga class before they’d gotten together that Connor was remembering vividly. There wasn’t exactly anything special about that day, except when Connor was digging through the closet during his and Hank’s private lessons and a box fell and he toppled onto the hard wooden floor. He was utterly winded, laying pathetically on the floor with a box keeping his legs on the floor. Hank was by his side in a surprising amount of time, and he felt the weight pushed off of his legs with ease, and he sighed in relief. Hank grabbed his hand and pulled him up with a smile.

“It’s crazy, Connor,” Hank had chuckled, fixing Connor’s hair with his hand. Connor leaned into his hand shamelessly, enjoying his touch. He met Hank’s gaze, which had darkened, and almost squirmed where he stood under his hot gaze. “I’m convinced you could go through hell and still look fuckin’ pretty.”

Connor made an audible sound of pleasure at the compliment and proceeded to bite his lip to make sure he made no more sound when Hank raked his fingers through Connor’s curls. Hank’s hand that held Connor’s let go and cupped his face and the one in his hair fell to mirror it. Connor maintained his gaze with a struggle. Hank’s thumbs rubbed his cheeks, and Connor found himself unable to resist an impulse he had in the past. He grabbed Hank’s wrist and brought his hand to his mouth. With his heart hammering through his chest, he licked a long stripe along Hank’s palm. Hank’s eyes widened significantly, and Connor could feel him tense. He kissed the palm of Hank’s hand, and Hank pressed a thumb against Connor’s lips. Connor was about to open his mouth for Hank’s fingers that pressed against it, but there was the familiar soft knock of Chloe, and Connor startled. They both quickly went to their mats, and the red on their face could be blamed on warming up.

The two never talked about it throughout or after the class, but Connor definitely thought about it. He was noticeably distracted the whole time, and Hank seemed to have some amount of pride, winking at Connor before he left the room.

That day, Connor couldn’t seem to cool down despite the cold outside. He found himself replaying their “private lessons” in his head the entire drive home, and it proved to be quite distracting. So distracting that by the time Connor finally,  _ finally _ , made it through his door, he was sporting an erection that wouldn’t quit even when he’d been standing in the cold fumbling with his keys.

Masturbating wasn’t  _ foreign _ to him, he had been a teenager, just… wasn’t something he’d done often. Not until he met Hank. He’d landed on his bed with a huff of breath and, unhelpfully, his phone pinged with a specific text tone he’d set for Hank.

The notification read ‘i really enjoyed our private lessons today’.

Something so simple and yet Connor felt dizzy where he sat on his bed. He didn’t dare open the text; that’d require having to respond, and he hardly trusted himself to do that right now. Instead, he shimmied out of his familiar black shorts uncomfortably. His phone was forgotten next to him on his bed as he dedicated his focus to getting out of his tights that he suddenly found to be dreadful as his dick strained against them. Forgotten until it pinged again, the same unique text tone sounding out in the room. He scrambled for his phone, only clad in boxers now, and read Hank’s second text, which only had one word.

‘pretty.’

Connor audibly moaned and clasped his hand over his mouth. He had to harshly remind himself of how thin the walls were, keeping his hand over his mouth as his other snaked down to the hem of his boxers. He was… fairly average in length, but it was enough to tent his boxers obnoxiously. He dipped his hand under the waistband and bit his lip as he grabbed a hold of his dick. Hank’s texts as well as what had happened just a few hours prior was enough for him to get himself off, and he tried to fend off the wave of guilt that ruined his afterglow. He responded to Hank’s texts. He knew he had to eventually, and he did so with a simple “Thank you <3” because he wasn’t sure how else he could respond to that without revealing his attraction.

A week after they’d gotten together, Connor had arrived at Hank’s after he got off of work, and Hank had immediately pulled him into a kiss, which Connor returned with just as much fervor. Connor quirked an eyebrow at him when they pulled away, breathless.

“Miss me?” He had teased.

“Shut up,” Hank said, although Connor could easily detect the fondness in his voice.

“Okay,” Connor obeyed, shutting himself up with Hank’s lips, and the two ended up against the wall, a kiss turning into a heated make-out session. Hank’s tongue grazed Connor’s lip and Connor moaned quietly, making himself tense at first but Hank didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Hank seemed encouraged by this, pulling Connor even closer to him, and Connor felt Hank’s erection brush against his thigh and he pulled back with a shuddering breath. He met Hank’s eyes, and before they could exchange any sort of words, Sumo barked.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me…” Hank grumbled, pulling away from Connor to go over to the dog. Connor just stayed slumped against the wall, panting and trying to will away his erection.

“He wants a walk,” Hank said frustratedly, and Sumo got especially excited at the words. Connor blinked before realizing Hank was talking to him.

“Oh,” Connor said, ever helpful. “I’ll get the leash.”

“Uh- yeah,” Hank put on his coat, and shoes while Connor clipped a leash to Sumo’s collar. Connor often found himself wondering where that would have gone if Sumo hadn’t interrupted. And Connor also recalled Christmas Day, when Hank had asked him if he was dreaming. Connor remembered feeling flattered, asking Hank if he’d dreamt about them getting together before, and Hank’s answer was something he hadn’t stop thinking about since the words were spoken.

“Among other things,” Hank had said, and Connor noticed him blushing after saying it, and he could only imagine what it entailed. Other things.

Connor also never quite forgot the occasions Hank had eyed him, his expression borderline ravenous. It wasn’t foreign to Connor. He wasn’t to seek it out, but he figured he knew enough about sex while still being a virgin. He wasn’t entirely oblivious, so he just about knew what Hank’s expression implied. He could see the heat that Hank had in his gaze, and he felt it too, and he wanted Hank to know that.

Other things. Connor always found his mind going back to it. He decided he was tired of only imagining what it entailed. Decided he’d rather find out.

Connor leaned up and kissed Hank, and he felt Hank tense for a moment before relaxing and pulling him closer. Connor made his way from Hank’s side to his lap and straddled the older man, and he loved the way they fit together when Hank’s arms wrapped around his waist. He tangled his hands in Hank’s hair and kissed him deeply. Hank had complimented him on being a fast learner after the two of them only dating for a few days and Connor had beamed at the compliment. He felt his dick, which had already been at half-hardness from his fantasizing, now straining against his shorts, and was suddenly very grateful their eyes were closed, otherwise his intentions could be revealed, and he wanted this to be on Hank’s terms.

Connor readjusted himself on Hank’s lap when they pulled apart and- oh,  _ God _ \- Connor wasn’t remembering wrong. Hank’s length, though briefly, had rubbed against his leg, and he was just as big as Connor recalled from the last time it had accidentally occurred. The difference was, though, that Hank hadn’t seemed to notice the first time it happened, or maybe he did and he didn’t care. But now, Hank had completely tensed and Connor opened his eyes fully to see Hank searching his face. Connor reassured him with a roll of his hips, causing both of them to groan. Connor’s hands came down from Hank’s hair and cradled his face, thumbs stroking Hank’s cheeks.

“Hank?” Connor asked, biting his lip as he continued to gaze into Hank’s eyes. He just prayed his expression conveyed what he wanted because God knows he wasn’t capable of putting it into words. Hank seemed to get the idea and shifted slightly, and Connor ungracefully climbed out of his lap, repressing a sound when Hank’s arm brushed his inner thigh. Connor stood up from the couch and grabbed Hank’s hand, pulling him up to meet him. Hank swayed slightly, and Connor laughed quietly and gave him a quick kiss. Hank wordlessly followed Connor into Hank’s bedroom, and Connor turned when they neared the bed.

“This is okay, hmm?” He asked, thumb rubbing Hank’s hand. Hank blinked at him before seeming to register the question.

“Wha- uh- yeah, trust me, more than okay,” Hank sputtered. “I promise Connor, this is something I want, too.” Connor felt reassured enough by this, and tension filled the air as they stripped. Hank, still in his shirt, pulled Connor onto the bed with him, and the brunette smiled shyly when he failed to meet Hank’s eyes.

“You’ve never done this before, huh?” Hank asked quietly, and Connor met his eyes when he heard the doubt in Hank’s voice. “You sure you want this? I mean… with me?” Hank gestured to himself and Connor found himself somewhat angry with the self-deprecation. Instead of speaking his frustration, he pulled Hank closer and kissed him, hoping it would convey what words could not. Hank sighed into their kiss and the tension that had accumulated slowly dissipated. Connor broke the kiss and pulled Hank’s shirt over the older man’s head before any more protests could form on his lips, and Connor’s lips parted slightly.

“I love you,” Connor whispered before he could stop himself. He could see Hank startle at the words, and he braced himself. He knew the three words were not something to be used lightly, but he felt that he really did mean it, and he wondered if Hank could tell. He wondered if it wasn’t the words that scared Hank, but the fact that he really did mean them.

“Shit, Connor,” Connor could see him blushing even in the dim lighting. “I, uh- I love you too,” Hank whispered the words carefully, and a smile broke onto both of their faces.

“I’m not going anywhere, Hank,” Connor told him reassuringly, and though he didn’t ask, Connor felt he needed it. Hank exhaled.

“Now let me show you just how much you mean to me,” Connor said in a low voice that sounded absolutely nothing like him, and that was enough for Hank to finally let go. Their lips met, and there was underlying hunger in the way they kissed this time. Connor let his hands trace all over Hank’s body, enjoying the way Hank visibly got more aroused at his touch, and he found that this was definitely better than anything he could have conjured in his head. Hank pulled back and both of them were breathing hard. Connor, in a surge of boldness he usually lacked, looked Hank in his eyes and gripped his dick, which struggled against the fabric of his boxers. Hank sucked air through his teeth, bucking up at the contact. Connor smirked at this and removed his hand, and Hank seemed to miss the friction. With Hank in bed with him, Connor felt suddenly insecure about his lack of experience.

“I… think you’re going to have to show me what to do here, Hank,” Connor said quietly.

“Hey, that’s alright,” Hank reassured. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” 

“...Okay,” Connor visibly relaxed and became pliant below Hank, who now ran his hands over Connor’s lithe frame. Connor shuddered, sensitive to Hank’s light touches, squirming as Hank’s fingers dipped under his waistband only to continue tracing over his stomach.

“Please…” Connor whined as Hank repeated the action.

“Hmm? Please what?” Hank hummed, and Connor knew by the cocky tone of voice that he was teasing him.

“I… don’t know, Hank just… I need more,” Connor pleaded, looking at Hank with his darkened eyes sparkling, and then, more quietly, he spoke again. “Want you to fuck me.” 

Hank didn’t speak, but the low moan he failed to muffle spoke for itself. The two of them both knew it wasn’t common for Connor to swear, so when he did, he meant whatever it was he was saying. Hank pulled down Connor’s briefs. Connor squeaked quietly at the unexpected motion but otherwise made no protests as Hank took him in his calloused hand. He’d always fantasized about Hank’s hands, but it was something else entirely to actually have them touching him where no one else had before.

“Is that good, baby?” Hank asked, and Connor nodded frantically, gripping the sheets to prevent himself from rocking into Hank’s hand. It was only a matter of time though because soon he couldn’t help himself and his hips jerked to meet Hank’s hand, chasing his climax. Hank pulled his hand away and Connor whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Said ya wanted me to fuck you, didn’t cha?” Hank said in a low voice, eyeing Connor up and down. Connor nodded, not trusting himself to speak before he put his thoughts to words.

“Yes, but… I’ve never…” Connor trailed off, embarrassed to say it out loud.

“I know, I’ve got you, baby,” Hank consoled him, pressing a finger to his lips. Connor knew it’d been meant to silence his worries, but he couldn’t help it. He grabbed Hank’s wrist and parted his lips, taking Hank’s finger in his mouth.

“Fuck,” Hank swore as Connor’s lips closed against his index finger, swirling his tongue around the pad of his finger. This encouraged Connor, who took a second finger into his mouth under Hank’s lust-filled gaze. After a minute, he pulled his head back and a thin trail of saliva broke, coating his slightly swollen lips.

“Well, thanks for that,” Hank chuckled, eyebrows raised, and with zero warning pressed a finger into Connor. Connor tensed and let out a surprised yelp at the intrusion. It felt strange, but not bad. Connor had only ever tried using his fingers, and even then, he’d only done it once or twice.

“Relax, honey,” Hank coaxed him, finger unmoving, and Connor relaxed to the best of his ability, taking a deep breath.

“You can move,” Connor strained, and Hank raised his eyebrows slightly but did as Connor requested and began to slowly move his finger in and out of the younger man. One of Connor’s hands went over his mouth and the other held Hank’s free hand, and Connor had more and more trouble keeping quiet as the discomfort turned to pleasure. Hank seemed to be able to tell when Connor adjusted because he added the second finger Connor had unknowingly lubricated. Connor’s pale thighs trembled and his breath hitched, and Hank slowly began to move the two fingers he had inside Connor, and Connor let out a long, drawn-out moan. Hank removed his hand from where it held Connor’s and moved his hair out of his face, which beaded with sweat. Connor looked up at Hank and found his eyes staring down at him hungrily.

“So fucking pretty, Connor,” Hank told him, one hand splayed across Connor’s chest and the other now pumping three fingers inside of him. Connor whined at Hank’s words, pushing himself onto Hank’s fingers now, always a quick learner.

“Haank,” Connor whimpered, fists grabbing at the sheets in desperation.

“What, Con? What do you need?” Hank said sweetly, and Connor  _ knew _ Hank knew just what he needed. Hank just wanted to hear him say it. Connor resolved to give him what he wanted.

“I want you to stop teasing-  _ God- _ stop teasing me and fuck me,” Connor was interrupted by a particularly pleasant spot being hit inside of him, and before it could be hit again, Hank’s fingers pulled out of him.

“If you insist,” Hank relented with a smirk, and he reached for his bedside drawer. When his hands returned into view, he held a condom and a particularly used bottle of lube. Connor raised his eyebrows when Hank wriggled out of his boxers. Hank was far from average, and Connor could only hope he was prepared because Hank was pulling on a condom whilst Connor only watched with his eyes sparkling and legs still spread. Reflexively he wanted to cover himself when Hank loomed over him, but he kept his knees apart and watched Hank through dark, lidded eyes. Hank lined himself up and pushed into Connor, who sucked in a breath in discomfort and held it before exhaling as he finally adjusted to half of Hank’s dick. 

“All of you. And move, please,” Connor requested, and even he was unsure if he could handle it, but he sure as hell wanted to find out, tired of waiting for his comfort. Hank gave a breathless laugh but did as Connor asked, and Connor gasped when he felt Hank’s full length enter him, grabbing for Hank’s hand. Hank laced their fingers together and kissed the back of Connor’s hand gently before laying their hands beside them on the bed.

“Is it too much?” Hank asked gently, stopping moving as fast as he had started. Connor took a deep breath and visibly relaxed.

“No,” Connor whispered, and it was the truth. He knew his limits. Hank looked into his eyes, seemingly searching, and then he continued to move inside of Connor. Connor squeezed his hand, overwhelmed from the foreign pleasure of being filled entirely, and Hank luckily started with slow thrusts. Connor slowly but surely adjusted, and as grateful as he was for Hank’s slow pace, he needed more. Not trusting himself to verbally communicate it to Hank, he squeezed Hank’s hand, and Hank looked at him in question. Connor must have been giving him puppy eyes- most of the time he does it unknowingly- because Hank figured out just what he wanted and gave it to him. The faster Hank’s pace, the harder it became for Connor to hold back from moaning and gasping, and eventually, he gave in despite his pride. He wasn’t the only one though, Hank letting out occasional groans, and Connor found that he was past the threshold of embarrassment. The room filled with the mixed sounds of skin against skin and moans; neither knew, by that point, who made what sound. Connor took himself in his hand, and Hank noticed this immediately and swatted his hand away and replaced it with his larger one. Connor- not for the first time that night- thoroughly enjoyed how Hank’s hand felt around his dick.

“Hank, please,” Connor begged, although he wasn’t sure what he was begging for. Hank pulled him forward, not enough to compromise their connection but enough to capture his lips in a quick kiss. Hank pulled away and leaned forward to where his lips almost brushed against Connor’s ear.

“Let go, Connor,” He mumbled and thrust into him hard, and that was enough to send Connor hurtling over the edge, scrunching his eyes shut. His body jerked underneath Hank and ropes of semen splattered against both of their chests and Connor came harder than he ever had in his life. Hank followed soon after, giving a final thrust into Connor, who whimpered quietly from the overstimulation. Hank pulled out of Connor and disposed of the condom in a trash bin next to the bedside table. Connor seized the tissues on Hank’s nightstand and cleaned the two of them up and put the tissues in the trash bin, falling back on the bed with a pleased sigh.

“Is this what you meant?” Connor asked, eyes on the ceiling as he basked in the afterglow.

“Uh, what?” Hank blinked at him, laying back next to him and looking at him in confusion. It took Connor a second to realize how vague he was being with his question.

“Oh- um- I mean, on Christmas. I asked if you’d dreamt of us getting together, and you said ‘among other things.’ I never forgot it,” Connor confessed, turning on his side to look Hank in his eyes. “Is this what you meant by other things?”

“Um- yeah, I definitely have dreamt of this before,” Hank affirmed quietly, and Connor was pleased to see the blush on Hank’s face. Connor found it slightly amusing that Hank was blushing over this despite everything they had done just minutes earlier.

“Well, I’m flattered,” Connor giggled and brushed Hank’s hair out of his face. “And for the record, so have I.”

“Oh- uh- cool,” Hank sputtered, seemingly not expecting that confession. Connor decided to let a comfortable silence wash over them and scooted closer to Hank, humming contentedly when Hank’s arm wrapped around him. 

“I love you,” Connor whispered, and the words were no accident that time.

“I love you too, Connor,” Hank said quietly, and Connor could still detect the awe in his voice, as though it was unimaginable that Connor would love him. Connor craned his neck to kiss Hank’s cheek, bringing it back down to Hank’s chest and falling asleep to the sound of Hank’s heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO fucking sorry for the wait, i genuinely have taken this long to finish this chapter but in my defense it *was* 4k words,, i just hope it was worth the wait to finally see this work come to an end and i hope you enjoyed <3 much love


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